


The Mysterious Ravenclaw

by Ariel_Riddle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fae Magic, Love Potion/Spell, Time Travel, Veritaserum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 13:13:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4920967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariel_Riddle/pseuds/Ariel_Riddle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>Tomione Time-Travel Four-shot * There is a new transfer student in Ravenclaw. For some reason, every time Tom thinks about her, he finds his mind wondering elsewhere. Until one day, the mystery girl cannot keep up the boring facade any longer as the courageous Gryffindor comes out to play when she sees a fellow student being bullied. What will transpire when all eyes fall on her-exactly what Hermione was trying to avoid?<br/>~An older work - not my best writing~</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Plan A

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary:  
> Tomione Time-Travel Four-shot * There is a new transfer student in Ravenclaw. For some reason, every time Tom thinks about her, he finds his mind wondering elsewhere. Until one day, the mystery girl cannot keep up the boring facade any longer as the courageous Gryffindor comes out to play when she sees a fellow student being bullied. What will transpire when all eyes fall on her-exactly what Hermione was trying to avoid? Rated M for violence, torture, and the occasional sexual scene.
> 
> A/N:  
> I intended for this to be a one-shot but is looking more like a four-shot, is there even such a thing? I know I got a few messages and reviews after writing my last Tomione one-shot (Truth Elixir) wanting to know if I would expand on that one or write another, well here you go. I am pretty happy with this one so far. I think it will be good-fun. Just as a warning characters will get a bit OOC and this is definitely non-con. Of course I must say I own nothing of JK's universe and receive nothing monetary for my works. I hope you guys enjoy. I would love to connect with fans of this story outside of fanfiction. Should you like to, you can find me on:
> 
> Facebook: Ariel Riddle
> 
> Tumblr: Ariel-Riddle
> 
> Archive of Our Own: Ariel_Riddle
> 
> Hope to hear from you! One more thing, a big thanks to Deep Forest of which I listened to the whole CD eight times while writing the first two chapters so I guess you could say it inspired me-big time! Yes I am taking it back to 1992-when I was 5 and Hermione was 11, LOL. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story and please drop me a line regardless should you feel so inclined!

 

**000**

**May 3, 1998**

Harry Potter was dead, all hope was lost. Without him there was nothing they could do against Lord Voldemort. Hermione looked around the crumbling, ruined building that was once her childhood school, bodies lie strewn about everywhere. She could not look, she refused to see. It was too much, she wanted to; no she _must_ get away in all haste.

In the darkness of the night, she heard the manic cackling of a Death Eater. She did not wish to fall into their hands again. They were crazed… _insane_. She narrowly managed to escape this last time, only because of the locket. _The locket_ , she thought looking down to the piece of silver metal that lie against her chest intertwined with the time turner Professor Dumbledore had given her. It was that odd locket she found in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault at Gringotts, she did not know what had possessed her to do so, but she pocketed the necklace and this very night, when she lie recovering momentarily from the _Cruciatis_ curse, her fingers brushed against the locket. Simultaneously, Scabior's attention seemed to be drawn elsewhere. More than a mercy seeing as the previous look in his eye suggested to Hermione that it was not just the torture curse he had in mind for her.

 _Yes_ , she cried inwardly, _you do not see me, I am not here—there is nothing of interest in this corner._ Hermione did not know what sort of power the trinket held but she was able to escape the confines of the room unnoticed. She raced to the Forbidden Forest, her magically altered bag in hand, past the mangled bodies of students and teachers alike. The beginnings of a plan were forming in the battered and bruised girl's head.

She still had the timeturner after all, she could go back to the moment Harry needed her most, she could go back and she could help him succeed. _But_ , a voice in her head nagged. _How much help could I be against Lord Voldomort, the Death Eaters, and all their glory? I must go back to a time when they are not so powerful, when I stand a chance against them_. The time paradox was daunting, the wheels in her head continued to turn as she attempted to come up with a viable solution. Absently, she attempted to smooth out the chains of her timeturner and locket.

An odd shiver ran down her spine. Hermione did not know how she knew, but she simply _knew_ the same way she had when she had used the mysterious locket to escape Scabior, that this locket could be used congruently with the timeturner. _Perhaps I can go further than but a few days_ , she mused. If she could travel to any time, what time should she travel to? It did not have to be a time when she was alive per say, her life was already over, all that mattered was preventing the loss of all the innocent lives here today and the many to come. _Not to mention the muggleborns that will undoubtedly be enslaved_ , she thought bleakly.

Then, the idea came to her quick as lightening; 1942, before the creation of horcruxes. Hermione need not reveal her presence; she need not become a visible player in anyway. She only needed to prevent the creation of horcruxes, and if she failed--secretly destroy them. On top of that, she could send instructions and clues to her friends in the future with all the knowledge of how to defeat Lord Voldomort should he arise anyway. If worse came to worse, she could always _Avada_ him herself—what was a Dementor's kiss compared to saving the lives of so many innocents? But could she kill a 15 year old Lord Voldomort? She was not sure she could, but she would not need to if she succeeded in thwarting his plans.

Resolved in her wild idea, she interlaced the silver chain in one hand while pulling out the time turner with the other. She would need to do a lot of spinning and the calculations would have to be pretty precise.

Just then a silvery figure appeared before her, Hermione looked up startled even as she grasped for her wand. _A fae_ , she thought in shock, she had never seen one before.

The woman was stunningly beautiful yet wholly other-worldly. "Who are you?" Hermione asked afraid to break the silence.

Her voice was serene, and musical, "I am Elvina, and you Hermione Jean Granger, are about to use our magick in a terrible way."

The realization struck her that the powerful and strange magic coursing through the mysterious silver locket was indeed from another realm—the Fae realm.

"Terrible?" She asked affronted, grimacing at the sound of her voice in comparison to that of the Fae's. "Look back at the school, at Hogwarts, that is terrible. How can whatever I do here today, possibly lead to a more terrible outcome than that?"

"What is meant to be has happened. You cannot replace one dark wizard for another."

"I can't accept that, I'm sorry, but I will do my best to not change very much. I only plan on tweaking a few things here and there. I'll have the locket; no one need notice me very much."

The Fae looked at her with iridescent eyes boring into her own, an almost comical look passing through them, "You think you can stay unnoticed?" The Fae challenged in her lilting voice.

"Why of course," Hermione said doing her best not to sound offended. "It will be my mission not to draw attention to myself. Perhaps I can even make the appropriate changes, send the clues to my future friends and travel back to a fixed future. I needn't stay long."

"You seem to have it all figured out mortal, go ahead then, but remember: you have been warned."

With that, the mysterious woman shimmered and like a light snuffed out, disappeared from the forest floor. _Whatever_ , she thought, _so I'll be cautious, but I am doing it nonetheless there is nothing to lose at this point and the whole world to gain_.

Flicking out the timeturner once more, she turned the dial the appropriate calculations while grasping the Fae locket in and around her fingers. The chain burned her skin and she willed the locket to send her to the right time just in case her calculations were off. She didn't move, the sky did not change color, she didn't feel the familiar sickness that accompanied time travel. But wait, had that tree been so low? She was unsure yet there were subtle differences. Yet if she'd truly traveled back Fae time travel was much different than the time travel she was used to.

The dial had stopped spinning, so she grabbed her bag heading towards where she knew Hogsmeade would be and she could apparate. There would be a Daily Prophet and she could see what the date was. She needed to get to Diagon Ally where she could pawn some trinkets from her bag for galleons; she would need robes, books, and other school supplies after all. Then she must go to the Ministry where she would sneak in and fabricate some papers for herself, she had a feeling the Fae locket would come in handy for that.

Trudging determinedly towards the direction she knew Hogsmeade to be, she did not notice the silvery figure of Elvina the Fae watching her silently as she went. She had watched the young witch the whole time for time moved differently for the Fae. "Fair well, young witch," the Fae called forlornly all traces of playfulness banished from her voice. "And be careful not to trade one dark wizard for another or worse yet; add to their ranks."

**000**

**October 18, 1941**

Albus Dumbledore sat, not for the first time, absently twirling his recently acquired Elder wand. There was a stack of papers before him, transcripts from the new transfer student coming all the way from Salem Witches Institute in Massachusetts. He had thought the girl might be interesting, seeing as they did not get very many transfer students—only two last year and none this year, but sadly he had found the girl quite dull.

He had performed all the necessary tests on her, seeing that she was fit to be placed in Fifth Year with her fellow students. She was reasonably intelligent, of that he was aware, but it was the not the necessary tests that revealed to him how utterly unremarkable she was. After a light sweep of leglimency, he detected nothing interesting there; a head devoid of feeling and emotion. He was happy to jump out of the vast abyss that was her head. How did she do so well on tests if not one original thought popped through her mind in a minute's time? He did not know and frankly, he did not care. He had enough trouble makers to deal with this year and it would be quite refreshing to have another student he need not keep such a watchful eye over.

Since they were already two months into the semester, he took her to Headmaster Dippet's office where they had the student—what was her name? Hermione Woods, that was it, sorted and she was placed in Ravenclaw. Professor Dumbledore sat back in his chair staring blankly in his office, for some reason, he had the feeling it would be an eventful year.

**000**

Hermione sat back in a corner of the library, hidden behind a stack of books. She was a little perturbed to find she was slightly off in her estimations and arrived two months into the school year. This brought a bit of unwanted attention. Yet even so, Hermione found with the aid of the locket, the eyes from the curious students would not linger on her for long. Apparently, it was very easy to be boring and unpopular.

Hermione scowled, she would not pity herself. This was a good thing. She did not need to draw any attention. This was a covert mission, no one need know she was here, not even Professor Dumbledore, and then she would be out. Hopefully back to a timeline where her friends would be alive and well.

It had not been difficult being placed in fifth year, at eighteen, she could still pass for fifteen and her guise did help. Merlin but she looked more atrocious than ever, wearing a pair of large glasses with thick rims, and her hair piled high in a messy bun, she was sure she looked ever the future-spinster.

It was important she be in Fifth Year— _he_ was in Fifth Year and she endeavored to keep a close eye on the future dark lord. She had not run into him yet, only completing two classes so far—Charms and Herbology of which were both non-Slytherin. Tomorrow was Muggle Studies and Potions. She picked Muggle Studies as her elective knowing it would be the smallest class size, but all houses were welcomed. Potions and DADA were her only Slytherin classes.

Hermione buried her head in a book, not noticing when a certain teenage dark lord sauntered up to her. "Flesh-Eating Trees of the World," he drawled. "Not exactly light, after dinner reading."

Hermione squeaked as she scrambled up from her slouched position on her chair. _Oh very good you ninny_ , she thought. Slowly she dipped her head back…way back to take in the form that was Tom Marvelo Riddle. Perfectly styled dark hair fell over dark eyes that seemed to bore through her. A strong jaw came up to form an sharply angled face; surely he couldn't have been raised in an orphanage all his life? He looked like a bloody aristocrat, not an orphan. Good Godric, would she be able to kill him if she needed to? She tried to picture the snake eyed, slit nose monster she had come to fear in his place but it was simply not happening. Would it be obvious if she grabbed for her necklace right now? He raised a finely arched eyebrow and absently, Hermione realized in observing proper etiquette she should probably respond to his observation.

"I just had Herbology," she blurted. "You know, reading everything I can on the subject."

"Tom Riddle, Slytherin prefect, Miss?"

"Hermione Woods," she mumbled. "Transfer student."

Ever so nonchalantly, she fumbled for her locket. She stroked it with her forefinger, deriving the energy she could from it. She did not even dare look at him as she thought it, _you do not notice me, I am nothing special…like a mouse scurrying on the floor—completely uninteresting, now go away…you are bored here, why did you come here in the first place? To get a book…you are getting it then you are leaving, pay no attention to the boring new girl._

A look of befuddlement passed over Riddle's perfect face before he seemed to get a hold of his bearings. "Yes, well good day Miss…" Hermione did not help him finish the words as he was already striding off. That was more juice than she needed to give Dumbledore, but it was necessary if she did not want to screw up the timeline too terribly.

Little did she know that in a months' time, she would not give a hippogriff's arse to keep up this charade much longer. Damn the timeline, she was Hermione bloody Granger and there was only so much a girl could take.

**000**

**November 16, 1941**

Potions had become a living, breathing nightmare for Hermione. She had endured quite a lot in the war, and was sure she could endure much more, but when it came to witnessing others have pain thrust upon them? It was pure torture for her. Myrtle Warren was a sitting duck and she could do nothing to thwart off the daily attacks she was under, not just from the harmless Olive Hornby, but from the Slytherins, Ravenclaws, and a couple of Gryffindor's to Hermione's utter horror. Trevor Nott and Abraxas Malfoy were the most outspoken. Malcom Avery and Cyril Lestrange mostly sat back with Riddle who seemed content to be surrounded by his knight's reminding Hermione of king the way he held himself.

He was a prefect for Godric-sake, could he not jump in and say something? Yes, she knew his basilisk was supposed to kill her in a few months anyway but still, someone had to put an end to this it was maddening. However had she thought she wouldn't be able to Avada him? Why it'd be very nearly the easiest thing in the world. Every time Professor Slughorn would give instructions for the day's potion, he would leave to grade papers in his office for a while. That is when Hornby would start and Nott and Malfoy would join right in.

Hermione clenched her wand dangerously, _it doesn't matter_ , she told herself, _it's just a little school yard bullying_. She had done so well to stay under the radar, successfully placing instructions in vaults, even hiding a book on Salazar Slytherin she knew Riddle had been obsessing over and that he needed to discover the location of the Chamber of Secrets. She would hate to bring attention on her now by doing something rash.

"Myrtle," Hornby taunted. "Is that a new style you are trying with your hair? What do they call that, kindergarten sheak?"

Hornby laughed maliciously with the cackling idiots she called friends. Hermione put her head down between her hands, her potion bubbling dangerously before her. She hurried to give it the required three counter-clockwise strokes and tried to ignore the voices drifting behind her.

"I think she is trying to impress somebody," Nott suggested. "How about it Warren, has someone caught your eye?"

Hermione turned to see Myrtle blushing and ducking her head. Hermione gritted her teeth as she clenched her desk harshly, she could feel her magic crackle, it _so_ wanted to come out and play.

"Oh I know," said Malfoy eagerly pulling his chair closer to her in a show of confidence. "Is it someone in this room?"

Myrtle turned impossibly redder as she snuck the quickest glance at Riddle. _Idiot_ , Hermione thought, _does she know how telling that is?_ The three loudest in the room looked at each other then broke into wild bouts of laughter. The other students around didn't actively participate but still giggled in their seats and Hermione hated them for it, _cowards_ , she thought. Riddle paid the teasing that had now dragged his name into the mix, hardly any mind and continued to work on his potion as if everything else were well beneath him.

"Who knew Myrtle the Mudblood would aim so high," Hornby cried between snickers. Riddle did allow a smirk at this. "To think the Slytherin prefect would pay you the time of day?"

"Hey Mudblood," Nott said brandishing his wand as he cracked her thick glasses with a non-verbal _diffindo_ , effectively show casing his skills with non-verbal magic as a mere Fifth Year.

Myrtle looked like she may burst into tears, and at that point, Hermione had had quite enough.

Gripping her wand tightly, she got up from her seat striding with purpose towards Myrtle's side. The three bullies looked up alarmed at the quiet girl's intimidating approach.

Hornby laughed nervously, "Got a friend here, Myrtle?"

Hermione knelt down to Myrtle's desk brandishing her wand and cast a non-verbal O _cculus Reparo_ to fix her broken glasses, she should know that spell by now. Merlin, but they were even thicker than hers! Hermione was acutely aware of the attention that got her, but she was nowhere near through yet, and thus ignored the eyes boring into her back focusing solely on Myrtle.

"Myrtle," she began softly as if talking to a child. "Now you do know that if someone hexes you, it's okay to hex them back."

"Really?" Asked Myrtle. "I've never heard that before."

"It's an unspoken rule," Hermione provided helpfully.

"Won't I get into trouble?"

"Better to get into trouble than to be teased constantly, right?"

Myrtle nodded slowly. Hermione turned allowing the wicked glint that begged to gleam in her eye full access as she turned her palpable rage on the Slytherin/Ravenclaw class. She doubted it had the same effect behind the huge glasses but she hoped it was slightly intimidating. "Myrtle," she called dangerously sweet. "You needn't even get into any trouble as long as you're quick about it. Like this," she said brandishing her wand in several quick motions, casting three spells silently before anyone knew what was what.

In the chaos that ensued, the class looked around to see Malfoy's chair leg break making him fall haphazardly onto the floor, Hornby's hair turned an unattractive shade of cerulean blue that clashed terribly with her pale skin, and Nott's face broke out with a horrible case of pimples. Upon closer inspection by Black, one popped promptly in his face.

"You menace!" cried Hornby. "You'd better set my hair back right!"

"Hey," she said placing her hands in the air. "You didn't hear my _say_ anything did you?"

"N-no, but you were showing Myrtle how to get away with it," she provided lamely.

"Oh so I was," Hermione admitted. "Well in that case. Myrtle I hope you work on your hexing, and until then, should anyone try to bother you again, please let me know. I really can't stand a bully."

Myrtle nodded eyes wide with excitement. Hermione grimaced inwardly, _oh no don't tell me she is going to raise me up as some hero or something._ Hermione chanced a glance over to the baby Death Eaters, as she liked to call them, if looks could kill, she'd definitely be a goner. But it was the king of the Death Eaters that held her stare; yep she definitely had his attention now. He looked at her with a darkened, calculating, and _very_ interested gaze. Hermione felt vulnerable, her hand dropped to her locket but she knew it was futile to conceal herself now—too much damage was done. _Protect my mind?_ She asked it weakly, she wasn't the best at occulmency but she was passable.

She plopped down in her seat somewhat deflated from her mini battle high and now suffering the consequences of her actions. _Well so much for plan A_ , she thought. The class was eerily silent. How she wished she had her pink sweater so she could pull the hood around her head and hide in the vastness of it. At that point, Professor Slughorn chose to waddle out of his office and back into the classroom. He seemed surprised by the silence he met.

"Well, er, ugh…that is to say class, it is time to test out your potions," Slughorn said cautiously. Even he seemed to know something went down. _Yes I did your job for you, playing mediator between the students_ , she called out snarkily in her head. She looked down at her cauldron, for the first time since she could remember, Hermione completely decimated her potion. To Slughorn's utter horror, she was not the only one; a certain teenage dark lord seemed to have neglected his as well.

That evening in the halls, Hermione walked around with a mirror leading the way, just in case. The basilisk was supposed to be dormant and she didn't think Riddle could open it yet but you never could be too cautious about these things.

**000**

Tom surveyed the small group congregated around him in the Slytherin common room. It was after dark now and most the students were in bed. Meeting like this would be fine for now but eventually they would need an area accessible to everyone Tom wanted to include in their ranks.

The Knights of Walpurgis would not just be exclusive to Slytherin students, nor simply Hogwarts students. Indeed Tom meant to recruit many young, talented wizards possibly even witches, who had an affinity for the Dark Arts. The group was slightly larger today with the recruitment of Alphard Black, a Fourth Year Slytherin, but Tom meant for their ranks to expand greatly.

"My lord," the group greeted him as they knelt down on one knee.

"You may rise," Tom bid.

"As you know, I have been looking for something this year," he began quietly. "It is a very important book and I can't seem to find it. It should have been in the library—in the restricted section, but it is not there."

"W-what's the book about by lord?" Asked Abraxas?

"It is about the founder of this noble house himself, Salazar Slytherin. I seek knowledge I know only it can provide. Perhaps there is another copy. Alphard, your family has a big library do they not?"

"Y-yes my lord," he stuttered.

"Good, I want you to check for me over break." Tom fingered his chin in contemplation, why was he unable to find what he was looking for? He remembered glimpsing it on the shelves only last year.

"My lord," Trevor began cautiously.

"What is it Nott?"

"It's, the, the, well what's her name?" Trevor stammered now unsure.

"The Woods girl," supplied Cyril helpfully.

"Yes the Woods girl, she has challenged us my lord, will we seek retribution?"

Tom smirked venomously, "You are to do nothing as of now. I will keep my eye on _the Woods gir_ l. Tomorrow is DADA. It will be a great opportunity to see what she is capable of."

"But we have seen her fight before," said Avery. "She was nothing special, taken out by a _Stupefy_ if I remember correctly."

"Yes Malcom," Tom continued annoyed. "But clearly she was holding back. It is quite obvious by her display in Potions she is capable of much more. She keeps her power in check, and that _is_ interesting. Why would someone wish to conceal themselves so? I mean to find out. Malcom, you will pair up with her, make sure to keep her on her toes, I would like to duel her in the end."

"You want me to lose to her," he asked aghast?

Tom merely gave him a look. "Uh, that is to say, of course my lord," Malcom amended.

"You all are dismissed," he said with a careless wave of his hand.

The Woods girl, she was most certainly one to watch. Her display of power as a Fifth Year was impressive, her rage palpable and he was drawn to it. But that last name, for Slytherin-sake why did she have to be muggleborn? Perhaps maybe a half blood, dare he hope? He would watch the mysterious Ravenclaw transfer student that no one seemed to spare a second glass, he wondered—was it intentional?

**000**

Hermione felt victorious, after reading a book on Ancient Runes, she came up with an idea to bind the Fae magick of the locket to another vessel. Her wand was the most obvious, easiest choice, but a wand could be stolen. She needed something that was undeniably hers, and then it struck her—a living, breathing, vessel all her own—her body. It would be hard, possibly painful to do the spell, it would probably require a bit of dark magic when etching the necessary Runes, but it was totally in her capability, she was sure she could accomplish the spell. Besides, it may strengthen her use of wandless magic, she could do very little as it was now.

She should not feel guilty about it; she was in another time in quite a precarious position. Really, she needed all the help she could get. The Ravenclaw girl's dormitory did not seem the place to attempt such a spell, so she hastened to the Room of Requirement.


	2. Plan B

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for the reviews everyone (from FanFiction)! As promised, I have the next chapter up, today. I am excited about this one. I may have got a few of these spells wrong, if so, feel free to correct me! Thanks to the guest review for the last correction, yep that is definitely the spell I was looking for! As far as the Dumbledore/Grindlewald issue, the whole purpose of this story was going before Tom made his first horcrux with Myrtle so it had to be fifth year. That I wanted to keep the same, I figured the Grindelwald/Dumbledore duel was a small event to change for the sake of my story. But it isn't going to come into play that much now anyway, this is a three-shot after all. I know I keep saying that, yet here I am posting a 5K+ chapter! Thanks to those that have followed me on Tumblr/Facebook. It's awesome connecting with you guys. Links to my other accounts are on my profile and the first chapter, one more chapter left, I am loving this little story but I need to get back to my other multi-chapter fics before they kill me, well the Star Wars people already are pissed beyond repair, but shhhh...don't tell the Twilight ones I am here! LOL I was supposed to update quick!
> 
> One more thing, the memory Hermione puts in the pensieve, its from a vacation she takes with her parents on Oahu, sometime after the Twi-wizard tournament when she would have learned the bubble-charm to snorkel with. The beach she goes to that looks undisturbed is Sunset Beach (Northshore) where the waves get ginormous in the season for it. The bay she swims to is Waimea bay and the outlet leads to Waimea falls, yes I know one can barely swim up that rocky creek, I have hiked by it and it is like one inch deep in some parts, but this is just another one of those instances where I change things for the sake of my story so, humor me? Also, I know Toms were not invented until 2006 but they fit with this story so well so I am changing that too :) Thanks and please enjoy.

**000**

**November 26, 1941**

Hurrying alongside Myrtle, the two girls made their way to their DADA class. Myrtle prattled on besides Hermione oblivious to the malicious vibes they were getting from the other Ravenclaw girls. Hermione smiled indulgently, yet barely absorbing what Myrtle was saying…something about her siblings and where their family was planning to go on Christmas break. She noticed Myrtle looked rather like her twin, with her hair piled haphazardly atop her head in a messy bun, and their atrocious glasses; at first glance there was a lot of similarities between the dark and light haired Ravenclaws.

Hermione felt power surge through her as she grasped her wand, how she longed to have a proper duel and really put her power to the test. Alas, it would not be a wise move. Hermione attempted to fly under the radar once more if that was possible. That hope however, would be short lived.

"Woods," Avery came up to her twirling his wand. "Won't you do me the pleasure of being my dueling partner?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, actually rolled them to Avery's apparent disgust at her lack of manners. Trying for sweetness, Hermione said, "I would, only I have promised Myrtle here." Myrtle smiled happy to be included in someone's plans.

"Ah yes," Avery said indulgently. "Only look at the board, Woods."

Hermione reluctantly drew her gaze to the blackboard _, Co-ed Dueling,_ she read, _had they implanted that thought_ , she wondered.

"Alright then," Hermione said gritting her teeth. "I will partner up with you Avery."

She gripped her wand entering the dueling chamber letting her partner trail behind, what were they up to? Did they mean to make a fool of her? Because she was in no mood, she'd be happy to showcase her abilities today.

"I will take care of Warren, Woods," Nott promised valiantly, a hand over his heart. Myrtle blushed. Okay now Hermione was getting worried, they were being far too nice.

"You'd better," she warned.

Professor Merrythought came out and greeted the class, "Now class, this will be round one of dueling. The rules are: no dark curses, no casting anything of which you do not know the counter curse, and absolutely no advancing on your opponent once they are down. When they are disarmed, the duel is over."

Hermione cursed the billowing robes wishing she could move in something more form-fitting. She preferred it really. She bowed ever so minutely to Avery and he did the same, only bowing slightly deeper.

When Professor Merrythought sounded the clock, Avery wasted no time casting a _Stupefy_. Hermione had seconds to debate whether or not to just let it hit her, but the glint in Avery's eye decided for her. With a flick of her wrist, she lazily deflected the spell neglecting to even erect a shield.

" _Rictusempra_ ," Hermione made a point of saying quite clearly. The charm shot forth with an incredible speed and landed Avery on his arse in a fit of giggles. Hermione smirked taking a moment to watch Nott duel Myrtle; he was going quite easy on her, perhaps even teaching her something. She saw Riddle and Malfoy dueling and they looked as poised and practiced as dancers; it was really quite beautiful to watch.

At that moment, Hermione needed to dodge a stinging hex as it seemed Avery had applied the counter curse to himself already. Okay, so the baby Death Eater was slightly better than she had thought.

She cast her own stinging hex which he deflected followed by a swift, " _Furnunculus_!"

The pimple jinx hit Avery square in his perfect face, she smirked. "Awfully fond of that one, aren't we Woods?" Taunted Avery.

Hermione cursed the huge distraction of the glasses she did not need that were sitting on her nose. _Damn, but they were annoying in a duel_ , she thought.

Avery spoke once more, " _Petrificus Totalus_."

The spell was strong and Hermione quickly erected an equally strong P _rotego_ to shield her.

Hermione cast a quick jelly-legs jinx letting her shield disintegrate as she followed up with, " _Locomotor Mortis!"_

This one hit Avery square in the chest locking his legs.

" _Expelliarmus_ ," she cried.

Avery's wand flew to her hand. _Well that wasn't too bad_ , she thought, _I only slipped and did non-verbal a few times but so did he._ Hermione looked around the room to see that a few eyes were on her even so, including Riddle's.

The boy in question strode confidently up to her, "Might I get the next match Miss Woods?" Hermione inwardly scowled, it was almost like he was asking for the next dance or something. "We are both victors after all." Hermione looked over to see Lestrange helping Malfoy to the hospital wing for emphasis. _Oh that inspires confidence_ , she thought.

"Of course Riddle," she said sweetly. "I look forward to it."

 _This time, I do not give a damn for dress code,_ she thought, _this is DADA and the robes of the 1940's have to go_. She quickly took her robes off hanging them on a nearby wall and stuck her horrible glasses into her robe pocket. She was wearing a button up white shirt and knee-length skirt after all, surely that would be more than appropriate.

When she turned to look at her opponent, she was startled by the alarmed look in his eye. She bit her lip resolving to adapt a look of bored indifference. She would not pay any attention to the desire that seemed to have passed over his face, no thank you. It was the first time she had looked Riddle in the eye without thick glass in the way. She had to shake off the feeling of vulnerability that threatened to consume her.

Hermione did the customary bow as did Riddle. He wasted no time throwing a _titillando_ at her; she easily deflected the tickling curse but had to suppress a giggle nonetheless, the future dark lord casting a tickling curse? It was borderline endearing.

She threw a series of spells at him saying them verbally for added emphasis, " _Densaugeo, Levicorpus, Deprimo_!"

He quickly deflected the first spell, cast a shield for the second, and his shield disintegrated as Hermione knew it would for the third, throwing Riddle onto his arse but not hitting him. Hermione was spurred on by Riddle's apparent rage and sent a non-verbal stinging hex at him. Oh how she hoped he underestimated her.

Riddle sent a series of spells her way and Hermione could not recognize them only seeing a blast of purple, green, and red. She erected a P _rotego_ but worried it would not be enough. _Stronger_ she demanded from that Fae side now bound to her. Quickly the wispy, white shield turned an iridescent rainbow color. Riddle's eyes widened. His curses vanished in her shield along with every hex he tried to send after that getting absorbed instantly. Finally Riddle seemed to be at wits end, he closed his eyes and opened his arms adapting a meditation stance, and then she could _feel him_ , his magic at her shield exploring it. The magic gently caressed her own in an almost sensual way. Hermione was repulsed at her magic's reaction to his, _traitor_ , she thought. Finally as if discovering the ward's weakness, he demolished the shield from within and it disintegrated before her in a puff of sparkles. Hermione looked back into Riddle's cocky gaze and now it was her turn to be enraged.

She sent an angry C _onfringo_ at him, he erected a shield raising a delicately arched eyebrow. If it had been anyone else and they had not put up a shield quick enough, that spell could have caused serious damage.

Riddle sent a series of stinging hexes her way of which she easily deflected but she was not prepared for the glittery maroon hex that hit her square in the abdomen. A feeling of heat enveloped her and shot straight to her core. Hermione clenched her thighs together, Merlin that complete arse, he had cast some aphrodisiac curse on her! Hermione would kill him; that was totally cheating, she would most certainly murder him—right after she used him to assuage her terrible, raw need. Yes she would only delay but a moment, and the--he was a goner.

Riddle smirked as if her face clearly showed her thoughts. Hermione's anger was at an all-time high spurred on by Riddle's unknown curse. She unleashed a fire whip on him, controlling it non-verbally with her wand. Riddle had to dodge and roll out of the way of Hermione's relentless attack. Hermione took sadistic pleasure in his distress. When the fire whip seemed awfully close to marring Riddle's perfect face, Riddle lifted his wand freezing the whip.

Standing up and gathering all the grace he could muster, hair now ruffled and tousled, which Hermione found she rather preferred. With pinpoint precision, Riddle advanced the now frozen and lethally sharp whip towards Hermione, molding it as a weapon against her. Hermione's eyes widened in fear even as every nerve ending in her body was still deliciously heightened. From some cool point in her mind she was able to invent a counter-curse.

Using a combination of A _guamenti_ and something of her own making, she was able to transfigure the frozen water back into its liquid state right at the very moment that it decided to descend down on her, dousing her in a stream of water leaving her clothes soaked through. Hermione looked down in horror, _nice choice to wear a black bra under your white Oxford_ , she chided herself. Now it looked like Riddle had been doused with his own aphrodisiac curse. The look of hunger on his face called to her but he quickly schooled his features.

Damn this was bad embracing her fury as the only thing that could hold her down to earth, she began a precise attack on the powerful wizard in front of her. She was not sure what she was casting as she simply let instinct take over. Riddle seemed to notice the change in her, and accepted it—apparently he could do that too. Now their duel turned into a dance not dissimilar to that of him and Malfoy's duel, only with a heightened passion.

Blood flowed freely from her arm and a spot above her knee, but she barely registered the pain so focused on marking Riddle—it became her goal in life. Riddle was quickly overwhelming her though, and she found she could not deflect or put up shields quick enough. In a fit of hopelessness, she cast an unknown spell. Riddle had dark curses coming her way, Hermione opened up a portal right in front of the curses swallowing them up in the process, she felt the need to release the portal elsewhere, and so she did, releasing the curses harmlessly into the stone wall.

She looked up at Riddle in startled wonder and he looked back at her angrily. She could see he had never heard of something like that before and neither had she. As the two most well-read people there, that worried her.

" _Incarcerous_ ," Riddle murmured taking Hermione momentarily by surprise.

Thick ropes shot out of thin air and wrapped around Hermione as she yelped in disbelief. Riddle pointed his wand at her and she found herself levitated in the air.

" _Expelliarmous_ ," Riddle muttered.

Hermione was enraged as her wand flew to Riddle's outstretched hand. She floated precariously through the air bound by ropes and she felt naked under Riddle's scrutiny. Her hair had half fallen out of her bun, her white shirt was soaking wet and her black bra stood out proudly beneath, likely her nipples were erect and for that she blushed as she clenched her thighs together—she needed to find the counter curse soon, her skirt was riding up her thighs thanks to the tightening of the ropes and she was not wearing panty hose or socks as she completely refused to do so, though now she sort of regretted it.

Riddle seemed to be evaluating her shoes. His brows furrowed in confusion. _Merlin, I am wearing Toms and they aren't even invented yet_ , she wailed, then she inwardly laughed at the irony of it, _ha, Toms!_

Riddle tentatively reached a hand to brush against her sweating, flushed face. Hermione wrenched away enraged and proceeded to use that anger to tap into her recently expanded magic. She willed the ropes to burn, then stretch thin and break. With a thud she landed on the ground. Bouncing right back up, she pounced on the shocked teenage dark lord grabbing his arms and attacking him with a vigor before wrestling her wand back from him. He chuckled, he actually chuckled and she saw true mirth enter his eyes. Hermione was aghast, what had she allowed to happen? She had been goaded and she let them all know exactly what she was capable of.

Standing up with all the poise she could muster, she straightened her skirt and shirt shooting a few non-verbal _episkeys_ at her open and bleeding wounds and a drying spell on her clothes. She walked over to her robes quickly donning them not even bothering to put her glasses back on, what was the use? Finally she stilled herself and looked over the silent room she had forgotten about for the past ten minutes, shocked and awed faces met hers. Professor Merrythought had still not recovered from witnessing the unconventional duel. Myrtle looked at her with unabashed hero worship. There were a lot of fearful faces as well. When had Professor Dumbledore arrived? Oh this was just fantastic, could she possibly just O _bliviate_ them all? Her power seemed to be spurred on by her anger and rage and that was not a good thing. _Before I return to my own time_ , she thought, _I am going to have to spend a year in a muggle monastery in meditation._

Riddle was the first to break the silence, "A very good duel Miss Woods," he began silkily. "I daresay we should call a truce?"

"Nonsense," Hermione said gathering her senses and attempting to calm her raging desire. "You won fair and square Riddle. Good duel indeed."

 _Merlin, he looks awfully cheerful about something_ , she determined. Professor Merrythought finally spoke up, "Yes well that is students, what one would call a fantastic duel, simply amazing it was. My but you two displayed a caliber of spells I have never seen used by Fifth Years, I daresay you would be fit to compete in an actual professional duel. I did not even recognize some of those spells, what did you think Albus?"

Professor Dumbledore evaluated them both critically and Hermione tried not to grimace, "A high caliber of spells indeed. I most certainly did not recognize some of those, Miss Woods what were you using?"

"I honestly do not know Professor," Hermione explained lamely. "It just sort of happened."

Professor Dumbledore merely nodded, but there was no twinkle in his blue eyes.

"Miss Woods," Riddle asked. "Might I escort you to Muggle Studies."

Hermione tried not to roll her eyes. "Of course Mr. Riddle."

Myrtle came up to her quickly as the class began to disperse. "That was amazing Hermione," she exclaimed. "I have never seen dueling like that before."

"Thanks Myrtle," Hermione offered unenthusiastically.

"Oh how I wish I would have elected to take Muggle Studies," she continued dreamily. "But none of the hip students ever take that class. Obviously they are mistaken as the two best students are in it this year."

"Yes Myrtle," Hermione replied for the umpteenth time positively peeved that the class of seven people, mostly Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors save Hermione and Riddle themselves, had to have Riddle in the class. What great fortune.

"Miss Woods," Riddle offered his arm. Hermione did not want to take it, it would be dangerous, Riddle smirked at her apparent inward turmoil and she grabbed onto his arm defiantly, ignoring the jolt of pleasure she felt. "Miss Warren," Riddle bid Myrtle goodbye and she squeaked in response. Now Hermione could not help but roll her eyes.

As they walked along to Muggle Studies in silence, Riddle of course, felt the need to break the wonderful calm, "I find it interesting," he began. "That you could be taken out by a simple stunning spell not but a month ago, yet be able to duel like _that_ today."

"Yes, well," Hermione began irritably. "There are a few things in life that are just interesting I suppose."

"You won't even try to explain?" He asked innocently.

"No I don't think I shall."

"Pity, that."

"Yes well some things are just meant to be a mystery, aren't they? Even to charming wizards such as yourself."

"So you think I am charming?" And at this revelation he spun Hermione around effectively pinning her to the stone wall behind her.

"To others maybe," she replied. He was too close and his overwhelming proximity coupled with the aphrodisiac charm that hadn't completely warn off yet was enough to consume her.

"But not to you?" He asked smirking even as he made to caress her face as he had after the duel. "I think you are lying." He accused lightly.

"Only because of your stupid aphrodisiac hex you sent at me," she deadpanned.

" _Damianis_?" He asked furrowing his brow. "Derived from a South American shrub called damania, producing flowers that cause an aromic smell meant to relax and stimulate the libido. A much better Herbology read than _Flesh-Eating Trees of the World,_ wouldn't you say?" He reached his lips down and then seductively whispered in her ear, "An effective little spell when it comes to momentarily befuddling your opponents mind, but alas, it only lasts but a few moments."

Hermione's face flushed a deep shade of red as the realization of his words dawned on her, "And they say I'm a menace," she sputtered into his cocky, knowing smile before pushing him away and heading to the furthest seat possible from Riddle himself inside the Muggle Studies classroom.

"Class," Professor Burbage said getting their attention. "I have quite the treat for us today. Professor Dippet has allowed us to borrow his pensieve as there is only seven in this class. I will explain the use of a pensive to you, but first, I want everyone to draw on a memory they have involving something muggle. It could be riding in a car, going ice skating, maybe a camping trip? Draw on the memory and use your wand to deposit it into the pensieve."

 _Great_ , Hermione thought, _so much for getting some distance from Riddle this class. And what memory shall I use, camping out in the woods as refugees with Harry and Ron taking turns wearing his horcrux around my neck? Or perhaps being tortured in Malfoy Manner by Bellatrix Lestrange herself, crucio'd and forced to endure the word 'Mudblood' inscribed maliciously on my arm?_ Hermione sniggered sarcastically to herself.

If she was having trouble coming up with a suitable memory, she wondered what Riddle could come up with. She pictured him with a crying toddler clinging to his leg and a babe in hand wearing an apron and snickered evilly, a Hufflepuff shot her a worried glance. She really was having a hard time coming up with a memory that did not reveal something of the future, the cars were all wrong, the buildings all wrong, it would have to be something natural then, but the clothes would be horribly off. Finally, an idea struck her. Content to have selected the best memory she could, she extracted it with her wand and deposited it in the pensieve. The other students soon followed suite.

Professor Burbage went on to explain the stone pensieve and its uses going as far as to detail the ancient Runes around it. Riddle made to stand next to her and Hermione sauntered quietly over to the other side of the pensieve. This put her in the direct line of Riddle's vision and she wished she could just push one of the Hufflepuff's out of the way and stand in the middle. Hermione folded her arms over her chest, sulking back at the wizard that had so thoroughly got under her skin that day.

"Right so let's see what everyone's come up with then," Professor Burbage was saying. Hermione prepared herself to dive in the third person point view of Tom Riddle's memory.

**000**

Albus Dumbledore was quite beside himself. Not one to lose his temper, he found himself getting close to doing so now. How had he misjudged the transfer student so completely? Clearly the girl was capable of a ridiculous amount of power. What was more, she had concealed it from him, he was sure of that now. The girl he saw today was not the girl he had orientated the past October. He could even see how other students would find her appealing.

Why had she thought it necessary to hide that part of herself? It was highly suspicious, but Dumbledore endeavored to find out. The students lining the halls could not stop talking about the duel between Riddle and Woods. It was a spectacular show to be sure, for Godric-sake he could see the two students being capable of dueling Grindelwald themselves if they'd had the opportunity and combined their strengths.

"And then, when Riddle's stinging hexes were coming at her fast and quick," Nott was explaining to a group of boys from rival houses. "Woods opens a portal from thin air, sending them right on through, she reopens it and they fly into the wall. Riddle was livid!"

Yes that had been quite a site; he had never seen the opening of portals used in a duel and really it was quite a good idea, he wondered if a portal could throw an unforgivable off of its path? It was something to explore.

Nott continued speaking to the captivated yet disbelieving audience, clearly they thought he was embellishing part of the story, "And then he simply used the i _ncarcerous_ curse on her, and it was her turn to be livid! He levitated and then disarmed her. At that point, we thought they might make out," Lestrange and Malfoy snickered at this revelation, okay maybe he was embellishing a bit. "And then she vanished the ropes from herself, launched herself at Tom grabbing her wand from him. She fixed her wounds, dried her clothes and they left together, arm in arm."

"That's enough," Dumbledore said his voice raised. "Students will not loiter in the halls during class time. Five points from Slytherin."

"But," Nott argued. "Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors are here too."

"Ten points," replied Dumbledore.

The students dispersed quickly after that. Oh yes, Dumbledore was in a foul mood. One thing was sure though, if Hermione Woods had hoped to be off his radar, she had surely landed herself there now.

**000**

Tom dragged himself out of a boring Hufflepuff's memory, actual welcoming the apparently thrill-seeking Gryffindor's memory that was up next. This one involved muggle skiing, but it was an improvement from the traditional muggle way as the skis were charmed and could levitate over particularly perilous jumps. After they exited the boy's memory, Tom's adrenaline was pumping as he knew Hermione was next. Oh how he was itching to get into the girl's head, what would she show them?

He had decided on the most innocent memory he could conjure up. It was of him as a child at the zoo. He had wondered off from the orphanage thankfully and was alone in the snake exhibit. The same Hufflepuff girl that had squealed in terror in the Gryffindor's memory had not liked the snake memory either. Tom smirked at the girl's discomfort.

"Alright class," The annoying Professor Burbage began. "We have seen some wonderful memories; you all have done a great job conjuring up memories involving something muggle."

Tom had to admit, even though the woman was an insufferable blood traitor, he was glad he took this class, the opportunity to see a pensieve was something Tom was happy to be a part of. He never knew such a unique bit of magic existed, but apparently, there was a lot of magic he had yet to learn about, and he meant to do just that.

"Now class," Professor Burbage continued. "Let's see what Hermione has come up with."

Once more the class dipped their heads down into the gaseous cauldron before them. Suddenly, they were transferred to a beach Tom had never seen before, but it looked like somewhere in the South Pacific.

 _They were facing an undisturbed, tropical shoreline with palm trees swaying in the wind. It looked like something out of a magazine. The water was impossibly clear and the most brilliant shade of blue._ Merlin's beard but what was she wearing? Some scantily clad bathing suit short at the pants and a tight form fitting shirt. Riddle felt a stirring low in his abdomen _. She was sitting on something that bobbed carelessly in the water,_ Riddle was unfamiliar with the muggle contraption but Woods seemed at ease on it _, suddenly she whipped the…board…around just in time to see an enormous wave cresting several feet from her. Instead of swimming away from the dangerous wave as any normal person would do, she actually swam towards it. Moving with practiced ease, Woods reached the wave before raising herself upright on the board miraculously. The wave finally crested then and Woods let it take her for a ride,_ so she likes going on rides does she, Riddle thought wickedly _? Woods arched her body at just the right angle prolonging the thrill for moments longer; she even reached out her left hand to gently glide it through the perfect wall of water to her left. As she approached the shoreline, she quickly got off the now flaccid wave stepping into the waist deep water, relishing the feeling of the soft sand between her toes._

 _She quickly transfigured her board back into her…wand?! And cast a bubble-head charm on herself before tucking the wand safely into her ankle holster. She continued to swim through the calm part of the lagoon not needing to go up for air until she reached a fresh-water outlet that was pouring into the ocean. She came up admiring the lush green tropical landscape around the river, and began swimming upstream. She made quick work of the job getting rid of the bubble charm as she reached a fresh-water lagoon this time. Pulling herself out of the water, she hiked above the rocky waterfall until she was perched at the top. It was about thirty feet up and a great vantage point to see not only the fresh water lagoon but the ocean one down below as well. She turned to leave and Riddle thought the memory at an end until she turned breaking into a run for the edge of the rock._ No surely she wouldn't jump from this height? _But jump she certainly did and those in the memory could tell the relish with which she enjoyed the adrenaline rush as she descended down at an alarming speed. The water came up fast to envelop them and then the memory was over._

Riddle and the others were thrown haphazardly away from the cauldron. The adrenaline rush was still pumping behind his ears. It was like the Gryffindor's memory only the exact opposite and like nothing he had ever experienced before. He had at least  heard of skiing.

"What was that?" Asked a frazzled Professor Burbage.

"That was surfing," Woods said defensively. "Ancient Hawaiians have been doing it for years and it was first recorded by English naturalist Sir Joseph Banks in 1769. My parents took me there on holiday, I have also tried the sport in Australia, it is easier for a wizard to do when there are anti-slipping charms."

"Yes but what you were wearing…" she began.

"Yes well one must wear something practical whatever sport they endeavor to try. Adams, you wore _ski_ apparel when you were skiing. Clearly I had need of _surf_ apparel." It was clear Woods thought the conversation over.

"Yes but," cried the Hufflepuff girl clearly just recovering. "You were also…" she sputtered for the words, " _Cliff jumping_! That is hardly befitting behavior for a lady." Her accusation lay thick in the air. It was all Tom could do not to burst out laughing. Woods detected the mirth in his eyes and scowled.

"Well then, I suppose I'm not a lady, at least not by those standards," she declared rashly.

"Well I found it rather exciting," Tom jumped in playing the antagonist. "I rather like when a lady displays some sort of bravery."

Woods glared at him haughtily, the girls in the room swooned at his declaration making Tom want to roll his eyes.

"Well," said Professor Burbage. "At the very least it was a great way to show how muggle…contraptions, can be paired with the wizarding world. I do hope the class learned something. Please summarize your findings in a foot long essay. Class dismissed."

Woods made to make a beeline for the door, but Riddle stopped her grasping her arm. "Leaving so quickly?" He asked innocently. "I had wanted to ask you something." He said walking alongside her outside of the class.

"What is it Riddle, _good-Merlin_ but I've spent the entire day with you!" She said her voice accusatory.

"My aren't we ever the charming one. I only wanted to see if you'd do me the honor of attending the Yule ball with me; it is only a week away."

"No!" she declared and then made to spin off.

Tom was frustrated, no one ever refused him. "Why not?" He asked dangerously. "Going with someone else?"

"As a matter of fact I am."

"Who?" He asked and he did not stop his magic from crackling perilously around him. The girl flinched in response.

"Myrtle."

"Myrtle," he said blanching and his magic baulked too but the dangerousness was gone.

"Why must you go with her? She is a spineless slag."

"She is my friend. And she doesn't have a date, so I am going with her. I won't allow her to be a third wheel either, that's rude."

"What do you see in her? Her magical ability is probably passive at best."

"Perhaps I sense potential, _Tom_ ," and Tom liked the way she said his name even if she had adopted a sickly sweet voice and seemed to be taunting him. "You can recognize the value in finding potential in others, can't you Tom."

Tom slammed Woods against the wall behind her, one hand around her neck the other around her waist, one did not taunt Tom Marvelo Riddle. She gazed up defiantly at him, amber eyes colliding with deep blue ones.

"I do not know why insist on being so rude to me," he said and his hand began rubbing circles on her lower back, at this her eyes widened in fear. "But if it is a lesson in manners you are after, I will be happy to give it to you. In the meantime, let me rephrase: you will go to the Yule ball with me, _Hermione_."

She had already prepared an angry retort but Tom silenced her, "You will come with me, and Myrtle will have a date as well, understood?"

"Fine," she said and Tom released her. She immediately began rubbing at her neck.

"One more thing, Hermione," Tom continued. "I rather like it when you call me by my first name, continue to do so."

Hermione turned to walk away, blatantly ignoring him.

"Hermione," Tom called warningly.

She sighed in apparent exasperation, "Yes, _Tom_." She walked off with all the sass she could muster.

Tom smiled triumphantly, he would train her well, and he would train her how to treat him properly—in deference. It was as clear as the odd shoes she wore on her feet, the shoes that so conveniently said his name— _Toms_. Her shoes were right, she would be Tom's.

**000**

Hermione ran as fast as her feet would take her. Wow, but she had royally screwed up this day! Hermione did not know how she had let things slip out of control so quickly. It was the damn Gryffindor in her, when prompted to anger she tended to do rash things not really thinking of the consequences. She needed to simply swallow her pride and let it all be! She had seriously made a mess of things. She needed to come up with a plan B and fast. Okay so clearly she could not simply slide under the radar. There was only one thing left for her to do, if she was to keep an adequate eye on him, she needed to infiltrate his ranks. Satisfied with her new plan she allowed herself to collapse on the couch in the Ravenclaw common room in exhaustion.


	3. Distractions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay so perhaps this is a four-shot then? Idunno but this is not the last chapter, I am merely adding this little tidbit (this 7K+ tidbit) in to seam the story together.
> 
> I have that new Selena Gomez song to thank for this one-Look Good for You, Hermione is definitely on her "marquise diamond" for this one!
> 
> Also, I posted an aesthetic for this story on Tumblr. You can find me by searching Ariel-Riddle if you'd like to see it. Also posting to Facebook of which I am under simply Ariel Riddle. Thanks and there is only one more chapter to go, hope you guys enjoy!

**December 4, 1941 _One Day Prior to the Yule Ball_**

Now that Hermione was not burdened with the ever-suffocating need to conceal her presence, she found herself quite enjoying her classes; always one to excel in a learning environment. Herbology was one of the better ones. It was a Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw class absent of any overbearing Slytherins.

What Hermione found even more comforting, was the presence of one Adam Diggory. Hermione could not believe the resemblance he bore to his future relative. Seeing him there in class was comforting to Hermione and reminded her of her friends in the future and what she was fighting for. She hoped more than anything that in this new timeline there would be many more happy endings for her friends and loved ones.

She thought of the second year Weasley she had seen in the Great Hall at the Gryffindor table that morning at breakfast, she had turned white as a sheet she was sure. It made her think of Ron, of course. The thought of Ron brought a stabbing pain to her heart. They had been on the run together with no time to enjoy each other's company but rather, merely, to quite literally fight for their lives. How she wished she had slept with Ron sometime between all the fighting. Their shared kiss in the school was as far as they had ever gotten.

Their kiss had not been soft or passion-filled, but rather the kiss of two frightened people clinging to each other for dear life—seeking assurance in one another that they were not alone in this horrible nightmare. It was unfair really; Hermione did not get the opportunity to work things out with Ron. There was much left unresolved—the way she had seen Ron and Harry creep up the stairs on their way to leave without her at Malfoy Manor, why Malfoy had seemed more disturbed by her torture and the venomous thoughts ate at her mind. The way Ron had voiced his insecurities after wearing the horcrux, she could hardly blame him, yet a small part of her did seem to harbor resentment. It all would not have mattered though; the kiss had proven that there was something there between them and a willingness to work things out with each other.

Diggory broke Hermione out of her silent revere, "Woods did you hear me?"

"I am sorry Diggory," she said as she removed her gloves. "I must have spaced out there for a moment, what was that?"

Diggory's handsome face scrunched up at her questionable use of words but quickly shook off the befuddlement. "Woods, I told you, you could call me Adam," he said jabbing her playfully. "And I was asking you, um, about the Yule Ball."

Hermione gulped audibly. What was it with purebloods taking an interest in her now? She still neglected to take much care in getting herself ready—completely disregarding the time-consuming hairstyles of this time opting instead for her signature bun. She had gotten rid of the glasses though; they were see-through and she really didn't have need for them. Was it her little display of power that garnished such attention? Reflecting on it, she did not see very many ladies of this time embracing their magical abilities. There was the seventh year head girl Minerva McGonagall but she was a special case.

"Oh yes the Yule Ball," Hermione started with much more enthusiasm than she felt but she didn't want to make him voice the inevitable. "As it happens, I am going with Tom."

"Tom," he repeated dumbly. "You can't mean Riddle?"

"And what if I do Adam?"

"Hermione, is it okay if I call you that?"

"Yes of course."

"I don't want to sound, out of line, but could you just promise me one thing? That you'll be careful around the guy? There is something about him that doesn't sit right with me."

Hermione marveled at what a good judge of character the Hufflepuff turned out to be. Placing a hand on his arm, she spoke reassuringly, "Of course I will Adam, and you needn't worry about me; didn't you hear about our duel in DADA?"

"Yes as a matter of fact I did," he said smirking and he so reminded her of Cedric then. They gathered up their things heading back to school.

"Well then you must know I can hold my own.

"I suppose you are right, but I do hope you will save me at least one dance at the ball."

Hermione thought about it, would something like that irritate Riddle? She couldn't see the harm in it. "Of course Adam, but I am sure I would be hard-pressed to find you without a partner at the dance tomorrow."

Diggory blushed and Hermione thought it endearing.

"Well isn't this cozy?" Riddle said startling the two, Adam actually jumped slightly before regaining his composure.

"Riddle," he greeted stiffly.

"Diggory," Riddle sneered back.

The two eyed each other, both nearly equal in height, before Diggory was the first to break eye contact.

"I'll see you around Hermione," Diggory promised abruptly turning to leave.

Hermione watched him go then turned to whirl on Riddle, "What was that about?"

"Consorting with mudbloods and Hufflepuffs now Hermione?" Tom asked instead effectively deflecting the question. "What's next, tea with the house elfs?"

Hermione was prepared to give an angry retort, but at this she couldn't help but laugh. Tom eyed her but his expression was unreadable.

"Well," she began between renegade giggles. "Now that you've mentioned it, it seems like a fine idea." Tom's usual impassive gaze showed signs of alarm for the slightest second. "By the way Tom, what have you got against muggleborns and Hufflepuffs anyway?"

"Well besides the obvious?"

"I do not know what the obvious would be."

"Hufflepuffs are a spineless house incapable of coming up with an original thought."

"Is it that their thoughts aren't original or that they don't correlate with yours?"

"Both," he said as they walked towards the Great Hall for lunch.

"And muggleborns?" she pressed.

"They are not much better than muggles and their only purpose should be to serve real wizards."

"Is that so? Now you are sounding like a Grindlewald sympathizer," Hermione went on and Tom did not detect the cutting edge to her tone. "And what of half-bloods?" She asked innocently.

Tom whipped his head up to assess her face for any signs of knowledge she should not possess. Hermione felt the light pressing of leglimency and used that Fae part of her to strengthen her occlumency. Tom withdrew quickly and it seemed he even thought his attack may have been unnoticed.

"I suppose it depends on the wizard," he said carefully.

"Well I am sure the same is true for muggleborns," she dead-panned.

"I hardly think it the same."

"Well perhaps you need to find yourself another date to the dance then Tom," Hermione snapped dangerously. "Because I am quite thoroughly muggleborn."

"I suspected as much," Tom said indifferently.

"Really?" Hermione questioned now curious.

"Well I do not know of any pureblood families named Woods but I'd thought you might be a half-blood at least."

"You don't seem too terribly bothered that I am a mudblood?"

"You wield an incredible amount of power," he said drawing near to her in the crowded hallway. "You are a special case."

"Perhaps there are a lot of 'special cases' out there Tom," she leveled. "I would not underestimate an entire group of people based on blood purity."

He merely shrugged and they continued through the doors of the great hall.

"And what of you Tom?" she asked voice sickly sweet. "I do not recall 'Riddle' being a pureblood name."

Tom pinned her with a dark look rife with danger and if Hermione hadn't been in the great hall surrounded by other students at that moment, she thought he would have just crucio'd her right then and there.

Hermione found herself ensnared by his grey eyes and try as she might she could not look away even though, this time, there was no denying the unwelcome entry of leglimency in her mind. Hermione quickly erected her occlumency shields but not before a few flickers of memories came up swiftly leaving just as quickly. _Her, Ron, and Harry camping out on the run…her with her parents on holiday in Australia…in a dark manor with a crazed women she could barely see through her vision throwing a torture curse at her…her kissing Viktor on the patio after the ball_. Hermione quickly sent the Fae strength to her poor occlumency shield, but not before receiving a thorough beating from the future dark lord, before he saw anything else incriminating.

"Interesting," he said eyes sparkling with fascination. "Very interesting indeed. You actually gave me _something_ this time."

Hermione could only slump onto the bench at the end of the Ravenclaw table, her mind exhausted. Tom sat down next to her; they were the only two at the end of the table at the moment as not very many had gathered yet for lunch and to any onlookers, it would have looked like innocent flirting. Tom sidled up next to her allowing her head to loll to the side of his shoulder—it had been a brutal onslaught though quick, and one she was not prepared for, she supposed he learned something the last time he tried to scope her mind.

"There, there dear," he crooned wrapping a possessive hand around her waist. "You have managed to puzzle me once more—whenever I think I get an answer to one question, I get a dozen more."

Hermione stayed quiet silently plotting her revenge against the arrogant, self-assured wizard to her left, even as she attempted to recover from his unexpected attack.

"You are so interesting," he continued acting wholly unaffected by her obvious hatred for him. "But I must warn you dear," and now he looked at her with all seriousness. "I am not one for sharing. There may have been…others, before—but there will not be in the future."

"You cocky bastard," she said finally regaining some strength, but he cut her off before she could continue.

"Now my dear, you will be staying away from Diggory. If you do not heed my words you will be responsible for the consequences. Now do cheer up, we have a dance to attend tomorrow." He leaned forward catching a lock of stray hair from her unruly bun. "As much as I love this unruly hair of yours, I hope you can manage to tame it tomorrow night. You will be on my arm after all—and must look the part."

Hermione was positively seething. Did he not think her, Hermione Granger, capable of accomplishing some routine cosmetic skills? She knew looks were not of much importance to him—more concerned with the power one could wield, but she rather hoped she could throw him off balance tomorrow, even just a little. It would be deliciously gratifying.

Myrtle, ever the one for impeccable timing, chose that moment to interrupt the tense duo.

"Oh Hermione," she breathed. "You'll never guess who's got a date to the ball tomorrow!"

"You Myrtle?" she questioned attempting enthusiasm but sounding tired instead.

"Why yes," she exclaimed happily. "Trevor Nott has asked me!"

"Nott," Hermione repeated disgusted. "The one who teases you so?"

Tom shot her a disapproving look and then the realization struck her—she had him to pay for Myrtle's sudden good fortune in procuring a date for the evening.

"Well," she began softly attempting to sooth the hurt look on the girl's face. "They say when a boy teases a girl that really means he likes her."

Myrtle brightened up, "Well then he must really like me, because he has been my biggest tormenter over the years. Oh Hermione, will you help me get ready, I haven't even a dress."

"Yes of course I will," she said waving her hand dismissively. "Just bring me something to transfigure, purple would be good."

"Alright Hermione," she said nodding eagerly before heading to their spot at the Ravenclaw table.

"Yes," Tom said watching her go. "It seems you will have your work cut out for you. I am sure you will need to dedicate _a lot_ of time tomorrow to your-," at this he gave her a mocking once over. "Preparations."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. He smirked as he walked off. She would show the teenage dark lord and his little cronies too just how capable she could be.

**000**

**December 5, 1941**

"Where are they?" asked Trevor. "Were we not supposed to meet them outside of the Ravenclaw common room?"

The boys were in their best suits and dress robes as they awaited the Ravenclaw girls.

"They still have twenty minutes Nott," Tom waved dismissively, "We are just early. Might as well wait here."

"Yeah," Abraxis said chiming in. "You know how long girls can take getting ready."

"I still do not see why he gets to take Hornby," Trevor whined. "Must I really entertain the mudblood the entire night?"

Tom looked at him with a fear-inducing gaze that effectively shut up his complaints.

At that moment, they were bombarded by two girls coming up to the entry way of the common room. To Tom's utter horror it was Hermione herself, with Myrtle trailing behind, and she looked anything but ready. Nott practically recoiled in shock at the site of them outside Ravenclaw house instead of inside like they had assumed.

"Hermione," Trevor said questioningly.

"Sorry guys," she said apologetically. "We got caught up in the library."

"But," Trevor said stuttering as Tom stood arms crossed, his distaste for the situation evident. "You have twenty minutes."

"We only need ten," she said waving them off as she muttered the answer to the Ravenclaw question and pulled Myrtle closely behind her.

The three boys stared at each other and Trevor could no longer conceal his disgust for the situation.

"The mudblood gets to go with me and she doesn't even bother to make an effort," he muttered darkly.

It was funny; Tom thought, Trevor's musings mimicked his own quite perfectly.

**000**

"Oh Hermione," Myrtle wailed. "We are never going to be ready on time."

"Of course we will," was Hermione's quick reply. "It only took the fairy god-mother this long to get Cinderella ready for the ball, didn't it? Well we have magic too."

"Cinderella," Myrtle said questioningly giving her that look reserved to times when Hermione didn't make much sense.

"A muggle fairytale," she explained. "Now, I've already transfigured that purple chiffon scarf you gave me, you are already showered, so really that's the longest part."

"But our hair, our makeup," Myrtle moaned.

"That's quick when you have the spell perfected," Hermione said. "Now here, put this on and when you come out I'll do your hair."

Myrtle hurried to comply and Hermione quickly began donning her own dress—an emerald green lace bodice that flared out at the waist in flowing silk that ended at her knees. Withdrawing her wand from a secret pocket she's previously added to the dress, she did some quick adjustments to make sure it was form fitting. Then she focused her attention on her hair. She took out the rubber band that was doing a poor job of holding her locks up and assessed what she had to work with. Coming to a decision, she opted for a soft curl on the bottoms. She cast the appropriate cosmetic spell and then proceeded to place a couple strategic bobby-pins. Content with this, she focused on her eyes, quickly performing a cosmetic spell that gave her a light blush, dramatic winged eye, and long lashes. By hand she added some gloss to her lips.

"Hermione," Myrtle called worriedly. "Didn't it seem like Nott was a little upset with me?"

"He was just worried you wouldn't be ready in time," Hermione called back. "He is excited to go is all."

"You really think so?"

"Definitely."

She put on some tan pumps and muttered a quick anti-tripping incantation. She assessed herself in the mirror; it hadn't taken long and she hadn't made drastic changes but the effect seemed extreme regardless. For so long she had taken so little effort in getting ready—even this little bit of time she took made a big difference in her appearance.

At that point Myrtle had come out of the bathroom. "Hermione," she asked unsure. "Can you zip the back for me?"

Hermione set to work zipping up the back and then made some last minute adjustments on her dress as well. She even tapped her wand to Myrtle's finger nails coating them in a similar shade to the purple dress she was wearing before doing the same to her own turning them green.

"Purple?" Myrtle asked aghast. "What an outrageous color, usually girls wear pink, red if their bold, or beige." She offered helpfully.

"Not tonight," Hermione dictated. "Alright Myrtle, now for the hair," she said more muttering to herself. "I've got it—turn around."

Myrtle did so quickly and Hermione used her wand to create a sleek, coifed bun on the side and nape of her neck, curling the hair of her bangs to attractively frame her face. She bit her lip indecisive about the eye makeup. Finally, she charmed Myrtle's cosmetics to reflect a smudged liner, smoky eye, dramatic lashes, and rosy blush. The effect was staggering and the two girls stepped back to look in the mirror together.

"Your right that was quick," said a stunned Myrtle.

"You look amazing Myrtle," she reassured her. "You will dazzle tonight."

Myrtle muttered her thanks hurrying to put her glasses on.

"No Myrtle," Hermione said attempting to stop her. "I think I've got this spell for your eyes that should at least last the night, let me try it?"

"Alright," she consented placing her trust in Hermione. Hermione mouthed the incantation and observed Myrtle's reaction.

"Hey, I can see really well now," she said nodding for emphasis. "Wow, Hermione you did a great job. If this is so easy for you, how come you do not do it every day? You're much better at cosmetic spells then Olive—hers take forever to get right."

"I suppose I just never had anyone to look good for," she said thoughtfully.

"But now you have Tom," she said placing a reassuring hand on her arm.

"Er—yes, that's right Myrtle," she replied awkwardly. "I have Tom."

"But Hermione what about our panty hose?"

"I think we skip them for tonight."

"But Hermione," Myrtle said clapping a hand to her mouth. "That's scandalous."

"Well you did shave your legs like I reminded you?"

"Yes," Myrtle said blushing.

"Alright then. Here," she said handing Myrtle some lotion from her pouch. "Put this on your legs and arms—it's perfumed."

"Victoria's Secret." She read. "What is it?"

"Just some muggle lotion, but trust me it works good," she said muttering the same anti tripping incantation on Myrtle's pumps. "Now let's go, we did say ten minutes after all."

Hermione could not fathom why, but she was much more anxious this time around then her last Yule Ball. It made no sense really, she was older and this should have been nothing to her. Yet, she found herself more intimidated then she felt she had reason to be. _Well I am going with the future dark lord who kills everyone I hold dear and ruins my life single-handedly,_ she thought darkly. But still, there was a bit of exciting nervousness running through her that she did not care for at all. She looked over to her left and saw that Myrtle was not faring much better; she cursed herself for not securing a calming drought for the two of them.

The two girls made their way down the stairs and approached the exit.

"Okay," Hermione said turning to Myrtle. "Here goes nothing, now don't worry your lip like that—be confident."

"But how do I do that?" the girl whined. "I am not like you Hermione."

"Just fake it," she instructed. "Now follow my lead." Yet truth be told, she did not feel so confident herself.

The two girls made their way through the Ravenclaw exit. They came out to see the Slytherin boys waiting for them, Trevor taking a swig of firewhiskey that he promptly sputtered out upon catching a glimpse of the two girls. Olive Hornby, dazzling in a white chiffon gown, had a positively menacing look plastered on her face and clutched on to a stunned Abraxis' arm all the tighter. Tom, Hermione could not dare meet his gaze as she felt the intensity of it immediately and longed for the comfort of her billowing robes, big glasses, and messy hair—anything would be better than being under such scrutiny. _Help me?_ She asked that mysterious Fae part of her uncertainly, she did not know if it worked that way, but hoped it did.

Feigning a confidence that was not her own, she strode purposefully up to Nott and snatched the firewhiskey out of his hands.

"I am glad somebody came prepared," she stated and took a deep, long drink of the strong beverage. Feeling the effect instantaneously, she dare sneak a look up at Riddle. His eyes were dark, inscrutable, as they watched her closely. His gaze was dangerous and…hungry. Hermione quickly looked away taking another swig before passing it to Myrtle. This time, she was able to look him in the eye defiantly.

"What's this for?" questioned a skeptical Myrtle.

"Spirits," Hermione declared. "We are going to a dance after all; time to get into the mood."

Myrtle nodded solemnly taking a drink from the bottle, before she winced and thrust the bottle back at Nott.

Nott took the bottle back delicately from Myrtle. "Horrible stuff," she looked up to him explaining. Hornby rolled her eyes in disgust at the girl's unladylike behavior.

"Oh Hornby sod off," Hermione muttered belligerently to a disgruntled Olive.

"Why, I've never-," she started to say but Hermione interrupted her.

"Come on," she said boldly grabbing on to Tom's arm and ignoring the tingle she got from their touch. "We've a dance to go to haven't we?"

She led the group on towards the Great Hall and talk started to commence behind the duo.

"I must say Hermione," Tom drawled and his silky voice sent shivers down her spine. "You look absolutely stunning tonight."

"Yes well," she snapped. "I suppose you now know I am more than capable of performing simple cosmetic spells in addition to the complicated dark ones I demonstrated for you."

Tom chuckled, actually chuckled, at her irritation and subsequent admission. His hand dropped to her waist below the lacey line of her gown where the silk of her skirt started flowing. He began rubbing soothing circles in the small of her back and Hermione tried with all her might not to lean in to his tantalizing touch. _He's the dark lord,_ she reminded herself. _He is your enemy, get a grip of yourself!_ Resolved, Hermione gritted her teeth and ignored the pleasurable sensations, a hard feat to accomplish what with that dammed firewhiskey coursing through her veins and putting her in a heightened physical, yet relaxing state.

Hermione glanced back to see Myrtle conversing amicably with Nott. Apparently, the firewhiskey had done a good job of soothing her nerves. If only it had done the same for her, but she unfortunately, knew just who she was walking with, whereas Myrtle had no idea she was conversing with a baby deatheater, or what a baby deatheater even was.

"He's being good," Hermione observed nodding her head over to Nott for emphasis. "You're doing I presume."

Tom arched an eyebrow, "An easy accomplishment with the miracle you pulled off."

"It was not a miracle," Hermione confirmed defensively. "We were only gone a few minutes after all. Clearly that suggests an inherent amount of natural beauty, to work with." She sneered.

"No need to get defensive dear," he said putting his hands up in mock surrender. "Look we are at the Great Hall already. Let's make this evening about us."

Hermione did not care for that idea very much, she much preferred being on the offensive with Tom, but let him lead the way into the beautifully decorated Great Hall regardless.

"Care for another drink?" He asked in that rich tone of his Hermione thought she could get lost in. "Or have you had quite enough?"

Hermione glared at the arrogant, aristocratic, chiseled face before her, before declaring hotly, "I think I'll have another, actually."

Riddle arched that perfect eyebrow once more and it was all Hermione could do not to openly sulk. He brought her a cup of laced punch and she gulped it down violently before looking up at him with defiance laced in her eyes.

"Come my dear," he said stroking her cheek ever so gently. "The dance floor calls for us."

Alarm rose up in Hermione, "But I am not so good at dancing Tom."

Tom chortled in response, "All you need is a good leader," he informed ardently. "Now, here, let me show you."

Hermione tried to gulp down her fear as Tom reached out to grasp her by the waist leading her out onto the dance floor. She only saw him, and attempted to mutter the same chants that kept her down to earth, kept her from entertaining that traitorous feeling doing everything in its might to claw to the surface. _He's bad, he's evil_ , she reminded herself. _He is manipulating you, resist him, you can't have him!_ She can't have him? Why would she tell herself that? Surely she did not have eyes for the dark lord, regardless of the ridiculously handsome face he was wearing or that protective grip he had on her hip, not to mention the way in which he seemed to insist she was his—it was not attractive, it was not ensnaring her to him, she was still her own person regardless of his controlling and influencing presence, she was in control and she only need to shake off this haze she had wondered in.

This proved a hard task to do as she found herself flush up against the enemy himself, swaying sensually to the music as he led her in a beautifully coordinated dance. _Okay,_ she thought. _This is much different than dueling._ If she thought the duel between Abraxis and him a site to behold, watching him lead her in graceful twists and turns as her skirt swished and swayed to the beat of the music, was much more gratifying. Her hands moved up to grasp his shoulders as she followed suit in the intricate foot patterns he led her in. She marveled at the way he was seemingly good at everything—even dancing. At that moment she could not see the horrible, dark wizard he would become but rather the man that he was now.

This epiphany alarmed Hermione and she worried Tom need not use leglimency on her as her thoughts were displayed clearly in her eyes. Hermione was lost in the dance and helpless to do anything against Tom's silent but intense evaluation of her. Finally Tom grasped her arm tightly wrenched her off of the dance floor, she realized time had flown by as they had already danced to three full songs. She had no idea what anyone else in the room was doing as she only had eyes for Tom.

"Where are we going?" she asked fearfully.

Tom said nothing merely pulling her behind a column of flowers up against the stone wall and hidden from site.

"It is time for you to give me some answers," he demanded menacingly.

"A-answers to what?" she stuttered.

"You are an enigma to me," he informed her. "And I do not like not knowing something."

"I-I don't know what you mean," she said pathetically.

"Lies," he said hands lowering to her hips and squeezing them experimentally. "I know you are attracted to me, yet you are fearful and hiding something. I can tell."

"I am not attracted to you whatsoever," she declared boldly, neglecting completely to dignify anything else he had accused her of with an answer.

"Oh really?" he asked and his tone dropped to a decidedly sensual tenor. "And what if I do this?" He asked as he stroked his hand from her hip up to the side of her breast and back down again. "Or this?" he asked nuzzling her neck before taking her ear lobe into his mouth and suckling it. Hermione could not help leaning in to his touch, her traitorous body able to take no more teasing this night. "Or perhaps this?" he asked and there was a determined look in his eyes as his gaze dropped to her lips. Her tongue darted out to lick them automatically and his pupils dilated slightly.

He reached down ever so carefully to brush his lips against hers. The effect was immediate, neither was prepared for the fiery response their flesh would have for one another. Hermione wrapped her hands around his neck forcefully, effectively pulling him closer.

Tom increased the tempo of the kiss, fighting for entry as he nipped her lower lip and she gasped in surprise allowing him in. Hermione moaned at the sensation of his tongue exploring her mouth, massaging the roof of her mouth before entwining his tongue with hers in an age-old battle for dominance.

Hermione felt her head thwack into the wall behind her as Tom used it as leverage to trap her body, molding her close to him. She instinctively wrapped a leg around his hip and they both groaned at the new sensation caused by the intimate position between the two of them.

Hermione's fingers found their way into Tom's silky dark locks and fisted themselves there as she lost herself fully in the intensity of their kiss. Somehow, Tom's leg made its way between her legs and Hermione bucked her hips experimentally—attempting to assuage the hot need that had plummeted to her core demanding satisfaction. As if able to tell what she wanted, Tom experimentally twerked his leg and the friction of his dress pants against her thighs and hiked up skirt caused Hermione to moan in pleasure.

Tom was spurred on by her response and dropped his roaming hands to caress her thighs before encroaching stealthily up. "Yes dearest, open yourself up to me, let go," he demanded huskily. Alarm bells rang off in her head.

"No!" she said effectively halting him. He searched her eyes for truth she indeed wanted to stop. Hermione did not know if her lust-filled gaze would supply that truth so she used all her might to push Tom away, flinging him from her.

"I-I need, to go to the ladies room," she explained pathetically before breaking into a run away, far away, from Tom Marvelo Riddle.

Oh Merlin, but what had she done? She'd snogged Tom Riddle barely concealed from the teachers and students of a 1940's Hogwarts right there behind a shrubbery for anyone to happen upon them. She raced through the crowded dance floor attempting to break free of this suffocating dream—surely it could not be reality?

"Hermione," and an arm darted out to capture her own. "Where are you running off to?" Hermione looked into the handsome face of Adam Diggory.

"I've got to go," she explained distressingly, attempting to wrench away.

"But Hermione," he said dragging her closer even as he placed a steadying hand on her hip. "You did promise me a dance after all."

"Oh I don't think it a good idea," she shook her head vigorously.

"If you are worried about Riddle," he stated calmly. "It is proper etiquette to dance with others at a ball. See, there is my date, Mildred Parkinson, dancing with Black over there. It is completely normal, you see? Here have the rest of this drink."

Hermione paused for a moment before snatching the drink and gulping it down for dear life, Merlin but she was such a coward! Gods help her, but she could not resist Riddle and needed to get far way. Hermione felt Diggory pulling her to the middle of the dance floor, and leading her in another wonderfully-coordinated dance. _Good-Godric—were all the men of this time impeccable dancers?_ She wondered absently.

She lost herself in Adam's sure and fluid movements, it was easy to relinquish control with the amount of firewhiskey she had consumed. She vaguely noticed Adam was getting a little touchy-feely, was that normal for a waltz?

In a panicked, frantic state once more, "She quickly disengaged herself from the Cedric-doppleganger.

"I need air," she explained hurriedly as she rushed to the outdoor patio.

She did not notice Adam Diggory, ever the gentlemen, following close behind. She grasped on to the ledge of the balcony breathing in the delicious night air when she heard footsteps following.

"Diggory," she breathed as she whirled around.

"I told you; you can call me Adam, Hermione."

"Adam," she said rushing to him and grabbing the collars of his dress robes to push him away. "You have to leave. I am nothing but trouble, please get away from me!"

"I do not believe that Hermione," he said worriedly. "Look, if someone is trying to hurt you, you need only tell me. Perhaps I can help."

"No," she said putting a hand on his hand that had somehow come up to grasp her arm. "You need to leave now, I beg you! It isn't safe." But his handsome features only scrunched up in confusion.

"Well, well," said an ominous dark lord from the shadows flanked by Malfoy. "Isn't this comfortable."

"Tom," she said attempting to reach him through his angry glare rife with the promise of brutality. "It's not what it looks like, Adam was just leaving."

"No I wasn't," Adam declared bravely. "What have you done to her, to make her so fearful?"

"Not nearly close to what I am going to do to you," he threatened solemnly before uttering, " _Crucio_."

Hermione screamed in horror but realized he must have cast a silencing charm on the area they were nestled in.

"No," Hermione screamed as she threw herself between him and the curse taking the brunt of it. Hermione writhed in pain under the torture curse she had come to know so well but she did not scream again, she had borne much worse in the future, and she had been the one in error today, she would take her punishment like a true Gryffindor.

**000**

"Come," Tom bid Abraxis. "I saw her leave with Diggory and I will not stand for it."

Abraxis followed resolutely behind his master as they ventured out to the balcony. Tom was insulted by Hermione's abrupt dismissal of him; she had seemed to respond to him like any normal girl would, truthfully he found her presence quite comforting as well, yet there was something there clawing to the surface that refused to let her submit fully to him, and he was determined to break this resolution.

When they came upon the deserted balcony, Tom was disgusted at the site he saw. There, Hermione was in the fierce grasp of Adam Diggory himself. She had willingly ran out of his embrace to be in Diggory's and the idea brought his blood to a boiling point. He could no longer restrain himself.

"Well, well," Tom said ominously. "Isn't this comfortable."

"Tom," Hermione said attempting to placate him, more like bewitch her with her mind games once more. "It's not what it looks like, Adam was just leaving."

"No I wasn't," Adam declared rashly. "What have you done to her, to make her so fearful?"

"Not nearly close to what I am going to do to you," he threatened solemnly before uttering, " _Crucio_."

Tom wielded the torture curse with a practice ease on the unsuspecting Hufflepuff barely registering the scream he heard in the background, content with his _muffliato_ he had silently uttered. But then, Hermione threw herself between his torture curse and Diggory and that riled Tom up all the more, that she should have so much loyalty towards him. He turned the brunt of his curse on the insolent girl but she took it silently to his disapproval. Sure that she was not going to break like the weak and passed out Hufflepuff, he lifted the curse.

She rolled to her back gasping for air. He strode up to her crouching down next to her distressed form. "I did warn you, you know," he said stroking her cheek.

"Yes I know," she said pleadingly as she rolled to face him. "But you can't kill him, his lineage is important! Please don't hurt him." She asked recklessly.

Baffled by her words, he was still undeterred feeling largely betrayed, "I told you there would be consequences Hermione, you knew," he said leveling his wand at Diggory.

With an unexpected speed from someone who had just fell victim to the cruciatis, Hermione arose and grasped his arm roughly, "No," she yelled. "I-I will give you something you want."

Tom looked her up and down before declaring, "You have nothing I want, nothing I cannot simply take that is."

"The location of the Chamber of Secrets," she added enticingly and Tom whipped his head up to study the puzzle that was Hermione Woods.

"And what can you possibly know of that?" he asked pointing his wand at her.

"I will tell you," she said putting her hands up in surrender. "Only promise me his safety, and that you will not hurt him."

Tom thought about it before giving a stiff nod. If she thought him happy at her admission of the knowledge she was holding, she was wrong, he most certainly felt played now.

Seeming to have permission, Hermione pulled her wand from her dress muttering a quick _innerviate,_ than an _obliviate_ on the pathetic Hufflepuff.

She knelt down by his side as he sat up, "You went outside to chase after me this night," she began. "But then you changed your mind, deciding instead to rejoin your date. You tire of me and have no interest in me; I am boring, now go!"

Diggory's eyes were glazed over as he shook off his stupor and made his way over to the dance. Hermione watched him go, arising stoically to join Tom.

"Come Tom," she called and Abraxis winced at the unusualness of her ease with the situation—even he was uneasy. "I will show you."

They made their way to the third floor Tom captivated by the sensuous swaying of Hermione's hips in her emerald green dress that fell tantalizingly to her knees and no further. He had not been able to take her eyes off her the whole night. Every once in a while, Hermione would twitch from the after effects of the torture curse and Tom attempted to swallow the tumultuous array of feelings that came unbidden by the site of this.

They happened upon a first year wondering on the floor by his lonesome. Hermione came to the boy's side kneeling down in a motherly sort of way, "Now, now dear," she admonished to the young boy who was captivated by her attentions. "You mustn't wonder these halls alone, at least three or more need to be with you. You never know the dangers that can be lurking around every corner." She leveled her gaze at Riddle as she said this. "Now run along, get back to your common room." The boy hurried to comply, befuddled from the attention of the pretty fifth year.

Tom was perplexed as well. What was it with Hermione Woods. He tallied up what he knew about her in his head as she led them seemingly to the girl's bathroom (that couldn't be the place right?). She had a healthy fear of him, seemed to know he called the shots with his _friends_ , was not surprised by the power he displayed or his ability to cast an unforgivable, had the oddest speech, did not hesitate to do things deemed unladylike, knew a caliber of spells by which she should have no idea how to perform, worried for Diggory's—lineage, seemed like no other girl at this school—of this time really. _Of this time_ , he mulled the idea over, was that it then? Did Hermione Woods not belong in this time at all? What was more, did she know him in the future?

Excitement running through his veins he followed Hermione into the girl's bathroom.

"You can go," he said dismissing Abraxis. Abraxis hurried to comply.

"Well," Hermione stated, her eyes dulled significantly. "You wanted to know the location of your precious Chamber, well here it is—I am sure you can figure things out from here."

Tom had no doubt he could, but right now he was torn—torn between finding out what lie in the Chamber of Secrets and torn between solving the puzzle that was Hermione Woods. One thing was certain, she had to be from the future, and that simple fact seemed a lot more interesting than some centuries-old chamber.

**000**


	4. Plan C

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:I am kind of excited because I ordered my Slytherin gear and deatheaters tattoo for our upcoming trip to Universal and Harry Potter world (not until January but I like to plan ahead)! Yes I got my husband a Straight Outta Azkaban shirt! My son is in Slytherin too of course, he catches snakes after all I wouldn't be surprised if he turned out to be a Parsalmouth. My daughter though, she was sorted into Hufflepuff given her sweet nature so thats what she will be repping, she is in good company though-hello Cedric Diggory! LOL. And I think I have an extra deatheater tat for her, who knows she might be the only Hufflepuff to go dark? Okay I am having too much fun, sorry, back to the story.I am kind of sad to be posting the last chapter of this story, after this is going to be the epilogue and then it is done. I wasn't sure where this was going to go but it just sort of wrote itself. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this story, and be warned, there are lemons in this chapter.

**000**

**December 6, 1941 Shortly After Midnight**

Hermione eyed Tom carefully, attempting to adapt a face of impassiveness and disinterest, a difficult feat to accomplish with Tom staring as intensely as he was at her. _Come just a bit closer_ , she bid silently, but the insufferable man was not budging. _Stop looking at me you git!_ She chided, _it's the chamber you are after—now go for it_. She tried to remain unaffected by the undivided attention the powerful wizard was displaying towards her, but it was proving to be a rather arduous task. She kept her hands by her sides, flesh against the silk of her dress; she could feel the comforting form of her wand right through the material underneath her right hand, so close.

"What's the matter Tom," she taunted. "Don't you want to come and explore your heart's desire?"

Tom's eyes widened a bit before becoming slightly hooded to Hermione's discomfort. "What do you know of my heart's desire?" he drawled.

Hermione swallowed at the unspoken challenge in his question before the inner-Gryffindor in her prompted her to take the bait, "Perhaps I know a lot more than you think."

"Oh," Tom said finally coming through the doorway of the bathroom, eyes gleaming. "Is that so? And what, pray tell, do you think you know about me?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"I think I can get it out of you," he threatened.

"Many have tried—and failed."

"Oh I don't know Hermione," he said moseying ever closer to her. "I think you will find I can be _very_ resourceful."

He was close enough. Quicker than lightening, Hermione bunched up her dress, reaching for her wand; she had it pointed at Riddle in seconds. "Obliv-," she had started to say but was cut off by Tom's disarming spell. When had he grabbed for his wand?

Tom was not saying anything, but he had his wand leveled at her and she felt numbness encroaching over her body—draining her resolve, she barely possessed the strength to back up against the bathroom wall and slump into a sitting position on the floor. She stared up, defiance lacing her features, into Tom's handsome, self-assured face.

"Tsk, tsk, so that was the plan? To obliviate me? As if you could."

"Shit," she muttered.

Tom smiled at her, his white teeth standing out in the dim light of the lady's room, triumph passing through his eyes. He knelt down beside her, stroking a renegade curl back into place. She shuddered at the way his movements seemed almost sensual in a way.

"How, how…" Hermione tried to ask him the question knowing at her.

"How will I extract information from you?" He asked helpfully.

She nodded painfully. He had lifted the unknown curse but the remnants of it still had lingering effects. It had not been so much painful as it had been restricting.

"You think it will be some form of torture," he deduced thoughtfully. "That may be the way others have done it, but I hope you would have faith I could find a more graceful way to go about it."

Finally finding her voice and somewhat resolved to her impending doom, Hermione stated quite impulsively, "Harry said you were prone to lengthy speeches."

Tom arched an eyebrow. "Did he now," he asked smirking. "You will explain this as well as much else, dearest. _Imperio_."

Hermione tried her hardest to resist the urge to succumb to the promising bliss of the unforgivable. Vaguely, she noticed Riddle was reaching in his suit with his free hand while still crouched to the ground. He pulled out a small vile and handed it to her.

_Take the flask Hermione._

Hermione tried to resist the seductive words, but why was she resisting? It would feel so much better if she would just submit.

_Take it._

The voice was angrier now, impatient. A part of her did not wish to anger the voice. Despite the small part of her that was screaming for her to go against the command, Hermione watched helplessly as her hand went up to take the flask Riddle held out to her. She grasped it fully in her hand.

_Uncork the bottle, then drink its contents._

At this Hermione knew she could not comply. Under the effects of the imperius, she could have easily succumbed to the pleasurable gratification of simply obeying, but Hermione fought and she fought hard. She already uncorked the bottle, but she still held it far from her mouth.

_Drink the contents Hermione._

Tears streaked down Hermione's face as she did her best to resist. She tried as hard as she'd ever tried at something in her life, not even aware of the dark wizard before strengthening his curse targeted solely at her.

_Drink it!_

Hermione grabbed the flask, submitting to the rapacious need to drink the elixir. _No!_ A part of her screamed in agony. She dropped the flask hearing it clatter and break on the bathroom floor, but not before a bit of the liquid had made it down her throat.

A glimmer of irritation passed through Riddle's gaze. "Always so difficult, aren't you Woods…if that is even your name," he mused aloud.

"Veritaserum," he explained. "My own brew actually."

Hermione gulped at this revelation, for the first time fear registering on her face as she gazed at him intensely, meeting his piercing and powerful stare.

"You did not drink as much as I intended you to," he said dejectedly. "But no matter, I figure I have a good thirty minutes of questioning." Riddle brought himself to an elegantly seated position before her.

"Do you always carry a flask of Veritaserum on you?" Hermione asked in annoyance, attempting to strengthen her bravado and recover against the recent dark curses she fell victim to this night.

"Among other things," he said dismissively. "But it is you, not I, that is on the hot seat as they say. Now, what is your name and _when_ were you born?"

"Hermione Jean Granger, September 19, 1979," Hermione said clasping a hand over her mouth, tears sprang to her eyes.

"I see," Riddle said eyes gleaming. "And you are, how old?"

"18."

Riddle nodded eagerly. "So you've traveled fifty-six years into the past then."

It was a statement not a question, so Hermione merely locked her jaw.

"And how have you come to travel this far into the past Hermione?"

"Time-turner…locket."

"Hmmm, and I take it you know of me; in the future?"

"Yes," she answered evasively.

"What do you know Hermione? How about a brief synopsis?" he prompted folding his arms across his chest clearly enjoying himself now.

Hermione took a deep breath, hoping to gather some resistance but none would come to her. "You become a powerful and feared dark lord. Many will not dare utter your name. You lead a formidable group of pureblood dark wizards mostly targeting muggleborns and blood traitors. You infiltrate the ministry and are taking over the wizarding world in my time."

Riddle looked like the cat that got the cream, "And what is my name Hermione? Somehow I know you were not one of the cowardly ones. Say it."

"Lord Voldomort," she said devoid of feeling.

"Very good darling," he crooned. "Now do go on, have you had any personal run-ins with me?"

"Several, in first year, my friend's and I ran into you bodiless seeking the sorcerer's stone and thwarted your plan."

"Why was I bodiless?" He asked brow furrowed.

"A back-fired _avada_ , you did not die though, because of the horcruxes."

"Horcruxes," he whispered hoarsely enthralled. "How many do I make?"

"Seven, eight inadvertently."

"Wonderful," he sighed. "And they are safe I presume."

"No," she said rather satisfied. "I destroy one of them myself."

"Figures," he sneered. "But the other seven…"

"You only have one left."

A look of rage passed through his face, "They are supposed to be indestructible, what harms them?"

"Basilisk fang, sword of Gryffindor, Fiendfyre…they are not so indestructible," she said quite against her will.

"Basilisk," he said sharply. "Is that what lies dormant below us?"

"Yes," she said nodding. "It petrifies me in my second year."

"The chamber is opened in the future, how?"

"Yes, under the influence of one of your horcruxes."

"Such a dirty word coming out of your pretty little mouth," he said approvingly. "And tell me, do I regain a body?"

"Yes, but it is not the same as this one, it is magically induced and…monstrous."

Riddle did not seem like he liked this news. He sat pondering for a bit, finally he spoke, "I see, but I succeed? I take over wizarding Britain? I am all powerful?"

"So it would seem," she responded. "Obviously I did not stay to find out."

"I sense some belligerence in your tone, it would seem the Veritaserum is wearing off already, before it does entirely, tell me what your role was in all this."

"I was a part of a resistance whose goal it was to take you down."

"And this Harry, and Diggory's kin, I assume they were also a part of this resistance in some way," He reasoned studiously. "Tell me where is the headquarters for this resistance?"

Hermione smiled back at him ruefully, "I do not have to tell you that one."

"Ah," he nodded knowingly, "So you are the secret keeper then."

She said nothing once more merely sulking.

"And my followers," he began in a tone of indifference. "Did they hurt you?"

"I fell into their hands more than once. One of your more amorous followers gave me this," she said muttering a quick _finite incantatem_ to the glamour on her arm, revealing the hastily scribbled, crude letters reading _mudblood_.

Riddle peered at the insulting word, then sat back saying nothing for a time.

"Are you happy then?" Hermione asked curiously. "You got a rare chance to see what your future holds, better than any Divination outcome; does it bring you joy, knowing you will get everything you will ever want?"

Riddle thought about the question Hermione posed to him. He looked pretty calm seeing all she had just laid upon him, but it was so like him to be able to hold it all in. "Oh I don't know Hermione," he began softly. "Seems like I could have done things a bit differently."

"A bit," she agreed. "Hindsight is 20/20."

"So what was the plan, you were simply going to obliviate me, and then what, Malfoy as well?"

"Well, I wasn't really worried about the Malfoy part but yes, it was hardly in my best interest for you to know all of that, now was it?" She asked attempting to refrain from becoming emotional, but she felt the threatening presence of tears behind her eyes.

"I'm not sure Hermione, is it?" He asked cryptically.

"What do you mean Riddle?"

Riddle rolled his eyes at her use of his surname before adapting his familiar smirk, "Well I for one am not 100% sold on that future you were telling, perhaps I can be persuaded to make a few tweaks here and there?"

Hermione thought about it, with plan A and B officially demolished beyond repair, it was time to come up with something else. Tom watched her patiently through her internal struggle. Suddenly, she pounced on Tom without warning. Tom let out a gasp of surprise as Hermione proceeded to pummel him.

"What's that for?" Tom asked in disbelief.

" 'What's that for' ?" Hermione mimicked. "Are you serious Tom? You imperioused me for Merlins-sake. Who just up and does that?"

"Gods Hermione, are you a muggle or a witch?" He asked as he attempted to restrain the hellion on top of him. "Must you resort to filthy muggle techniques then?"

"I find it a bit more satisfying," she said quickly losing the battle to a surprisingly strong teenage dark lord. "And my parents were muggles, or will be, you insufferable git!"

Hermione froze in the precarious position she was in on top of Tom when they both heard the sound of laughter around the marble pillars. She stared up like a deer caught in headlights as two people made their way into the room. To her utter astonishment, it was Myrtle and Nott walking arm and arm.

Myrtle was pulling a completely complaint Nott in behind her with a surprising amount of confidence. Hermione could only look up in shock, Tom stuck underneath her.

"Oh Mione!" Myrtle said finally spotting the two on the floor. "I did not realize this room was, er, occupied."

Hermione hastened to get off of Tom smoothing out her wrinkled dress. Tom came to a standing position smoothly behind her.

At first Nott looked uncomfortable, but soon his features softened and even he joked, "This _is_ Myrtle's bathroom afterall."

 _Things are already changing,_ Hermione thought.

Myrtle giggled, "Trevor you are so delightfully funny, come let's go somewhere else and leave these two love-birds alone."

"That's not necessary Myrtle," Hermione said waving her off. "We were just leaving."

"Didn't look like it," she replied cheekily taking note of her rumpled state. _I have had two unforgivable cast on me in an hour_ , she thought indignantly, _not been making mad love!_

"Really, we were," she assured her.

"Well alright then, if you insist," Myrtle said as she ran to embrace a startled Hermione. Hermione instinctively hugged her back.

"I just wanted to thank you," Myrtle said softly.

"For what?" Hermione asked slightly confused.

"For being such a good friend to me," Myrtle explained. "Life has got so much more…exciting since you transferred here, and I just wanted to say thanks for being there for me."

Hermione smiled. "Don't mention it Myrtle," she started awkwardly. "You have been just as good a friend to me, exactly when I needed one most."

The two girls hugged once more until they heard Nott clear his throat.

"That's all very touching," Nott said impatiently. "But if you'll excuse Myrtle and I-."

"Oh Trevor," Myrtle said jabbing him playfully in the arm. "Don't be so crass."

"Bye Myrtle," Hermione said turning to leave with Tom. "And, er, Trevor."

"Goodbye Hermione and have a fun night," Myrtle replied winking.

Hermione could not help shaking her head as they left Trevor and Myrtle, really she had fuddled up the timeline rather thoroughly, hadn't she?

Turning to Tom she said, "Please don't open the chamber, for Myrtle's sake."

"Because the basilisk will target muggleborns," he construed.

 _My, my, isn't he the sharp one_ , Hermione thought. She merely nodded in response.

"Perhaps I could be dissuaded with the proper distraction," he reasoned.

Hermione's sharp eyes shot up to evaluate him, but his face was unreadable. Did she have so much influence on the future dark lord? Dare she hope that under her guidance she could encourage Tom to follow a different path? So much had changed already…might it be possible? He possessed his full soul after all, not having created any horcruxes yet. Slowly a plan C was forming in her mind.

"Do you still seek immortality?" Hermione asked him curious as he lead her down the corridor, his hand never leaving the small of her back.

"Yes," he admitted. "But perhaps horcruxes are not the best way to go about it. Besides, I am rather partial to this body, what do you think?"

"Oh I would say I am more than partial to this body," Hermione blurted before covering her mouth, undoubtedly the last remnants of the Veritaserum spurring her impulsive answer. Tom smiled wickedly at her declaration.

"Come dear," he bid.

"Where are we going?"

"To iron out the details of our, _alliance_ ," he informed her. "The Room of Requirement."

Hermione tried to swallow down her nervousness. There was an opportunity here, an opportunity to change and correct a horrible history, besides, she could always have a one-up against him, he still knew nothing of the Fae magick she possessed. It was time to put plan C into motion—how better to keep her eye on her dark lord than to become his lady?

**000**

"Come Albus," Slughorn called jovially. "You have been sulking in this corner for most of the dance; do have a bit of fun?"

Albus eyed the ever-cheerful professor with a bit of disdain, was the man so ignorant to what was going on around them? Albus sensed a change in the air, as well as a lingering danger. Both professors looked up to see an enamored pair of students running by them. To Albus' utter shock, it was none other than Warren and Nott, sworn enemies last he checked.

Slughorn clapped Albus hard on the back. "Will you just look at that," he exclaimed excitedly. "Love is in the air tonight, oh but to be young again."

"There is one couple conveniently missing Horace," Albus said gruffly.

"Ah yes, Tom and Hermione," Slughorn smiled knowingly. "What a great pair the two of them make. They complement each other nicely, don't you think?"

Albus was upset for about the hundredth time at how he had managed to underestimate the Woods girl, how could he have ever thought her as tedious and boring? Clearly she was anything but. And how did one not notice the girl—clearly every student in Hogwarts had taken an interest in her and every professor for that matter. But Albus had a different reason entirely for his curiosity; the girl was well-versed in complicated spells, seemingly of her own creation even. He had only seen one other student display that aptitude for spells—Tom Riddle. Yes what a pair the two of them made indeed—a potentially lethal pair.

Albus knew Tom was capable of inventing his own spells as Albus did himself, though Tom tried to conceal this ability from him, and apparently Hermione had a skill for it as well. Not a common practice in the least and the most disconcerting part of it was that the girl knowingly deceived him. Clearly Hermione Woods had something to hide.

Disregarding the professor's question, Albus asked one of his own, "Have you ever heard of something like what Hermione did in her duel with Tom before—opening a portal from thin air to swallow Tom's hexes like that."

"Yes, yes, that is to say—no I haven't but," Slughorn said amicably. "Slytherin and Ravenclaw have much talent this year. Now I see why you're sore, Gryffindor is a little left out, eh? No worries Albus, there is always next year."

Albus wanted to roll his eyes, Horace Slughorn would not be aware of the danger until it was standing on his front door forcing entry, the man was being unbelievably obtuse.

"Yes of course Horace," Albus agreed placatingly. "You are quite right."

Albus could only chaperone the rest of the dance with thinly veiled disinterest, his thoughts in turmoil. What were Tom and Hermione up to right now? Where would the rest of this term lead? And most importantly, what type of wizards would they grow to be? It was enough to keep one from sleep at night. One thing was sure; Albus Dumbledore would keep an ever-watchful eye on the situation.

**000**

"Hmm," Hermione said surveying the room around them, with its plush furniture and full bed in the corner. "This is quite cozy isn't it? Is this typically the type of environment you like to meet in with potential _alliance members_?"

"And what were you envisioning?" Tom feigning disinterest.

Hermione stood thinking one finger on her chin, "Probably a long table, with a chair on either end."

"I see," Tom remarked. "Is my presence that insufferable then?"

"I find it a bit overwhelming," she admitted.

Tom snickered at this; the girl was quite jumpy tonight. He found her ruffled state even more intoxicating then when she had first come out earlier that evening, dressed to impress, wearing his favorite color—Slytherin green. Had she known then that he would be making her his tonight, even subconsciously?

"Well," she began boldly crossing her arms over her chest in a decidedly defensive gesture. "Will we be making a truce tonight or not?"

"I would like to work with you Hermione," he said silkily perching on the edge of an oversized chair. "I would be remiss not to take advantage of your presence here and the wealth of knowledge you possess. With your intelligence, I am sure you can help me find a suitable replacement plan for my quest for immortality."

"I was known as the brightest witch of my age," she informed him haughtily.

"Hmm," he hummed in approval. "Very fitting I'd say."

"I would require a few things of course."

"Of course."

"There are certain lineages I would like preserved; you must promise to protect them."

"I think I can abide by that," Tom replied generously.

"Right," she said the edge still present in her tone as the tension between them was palpitating. "How do we seal this deal then? The unbreakable vow? We need a third party to administer it, shall I fetch Malfoy?" The little minx seemed eager to distance herself from him.

"No need," Tom dismissed the idea. "I have a much better tactic to sealing our deal, and much more pleasurable too."

"That's great," Hermione said in irritation. "But I do not think I can stomach _that_ tonight. I think unforgivables have a decidedly non-aphrodisiac effect on me—they are essentially, a mood killer."

"Well luckily for you I have the perfect solution," he practically sang. " _Damianis_." Tom pointed his wand straight at Hermione hitting her square in the abdomen.

Hermione felt the instant effect of Tom's aphrodisiac charm as an electrifying need bombarded her senses. She felt her defenses fall as the stimulating fire of his spell assaulted her and she could not focus on anything else but him. He was only several paces away, still perched loftily on the chair, his dark gaze raking over her newly awakened body. She clenched her thighs together in an effort to ease the insufferable heat as the enticing spark seemed to shoot straight to her core. _Gods but he looks delectable_ , Hermione thought in a fit of madness. She found herself sauntering over to him seemingly of her body's own accord.

Somehow, the strap of her dress had slipped down passed her shoulder and Hermione looked like a mouthwatering treat for Tom's enjoyment only.

"Yes darling," he serenaded her with his velvety voice as he dropped to the seat of the settee. "Come to me and sit right on top of my lap."

His coaxing instructions caused Hermione to mewl in a pleasurable sound somewhere between want and need. When she reached Tom she did not hesitate to climb upon him and secure her hands behind his neck. His arms went up immediately to encircle her and Hermione threw her head back in delight at the delicious skin to skin contact. The little movements she was making on his lap caused Tom to squirm as well underneath her.

When their mouths finally met, their kiss was anything but gentle. Hermione took initiative slanting her lips against his, but Tom would not be dominated and was the first to meet his tongue with hers. Their tongues met with an explosion of feeling. Hermione gripped Tom harshly for support, spreading her legs widely to sit low on his lap. Their kiss was heavenly creating a tantalizing thrill that sent shocks to Hermione's every nerve-ending. She moved in synch with him and molded her soft curves to his hard ridges. The ferocity of their kiss forced more heat low into her abdomen, and seemed to be having a distinct effect on Tom as well, if the hardness pressed against her belly was any indication.

Tom broke away to trail hot open-mouthed kisses down the column of her jaw. Hermione gasped for air as he continued lower nuzzling her neck.

"You are an insufferable cheat you know," she accused, her voice thick and breathy.

"Hmm," he murmured hoarsely. "It is not so much cheating as it is simply taking what I want."

Hermione let her fingers glide through his silky dark tresses as he continued his descent down her neck, simultaneously removing the other strap of her dress.

"And what do you want Tom?"

His hand snaked around her back to sneakily unhook her strapless bra and she took in a shaky breath as she felt his hands running up and down her now bared sides.

"I want to take you, and make you mine tonight," he whispered huskily. "There will be no one else after this," he promised. Vaguely, Hermione contemplated if Ron had ever displayed so much passion towards her, if he was even capable of it, she thought she knew the answer already.

As if adding emphasis to his words, he took that moment to claim her mouth once more, running his tongue across the seam of her lips begging for entry, of which she immediately granted, his kiss searing her to him. Hermione, now thoroughly distracted, gasped in surprise as she felt one of his hands sneak its way onto her chest grabbing one of her aching breasts and palming it experimentally. Hermione purred in response, thrusting her chest forward, essentially begging for more. With his other hand, he guided her hips to grind down against his own creating a delicious friction that caused Hermione to whimper with her growing need.

She could feel that Tom's tight control was slipping too as his magic began to permeate the air. Her magic crackled back playfully, teasing his in a sensual way. Tom rolled his hips, rubbing his rigid erection against her stomach, her dress was now pooled at her waist and Tom took that opportunity to take one of her breasts in his mouth. Hermione moaned in delight as she arched herself forwards for more of what she yearned for.

"Please," she whimpered. Tom chuckled in response.

Hermione thought it wasn't fair, that she would become so unhinged under her wizard's attentions and he would remain so perfectly together. In a decidedly wicked notion, Hermione made to reach down and rub her hand over his cloth covered hardness.

The effect was instant; Tom gave a feral growl and bucked into her hand instantly. Hermione giggled in delight. Tom fixed her with an insatiable look of hunger that called to the woman within, making her roar to life with a compulsion that demanded immediate attending. Hermione absently noticed a wicked glint pass through his lust-filled eyes and at the same moment she felt one of his hands making its way up her sensitive inner-thigh.

When Tom's hand came to rest on the silky material of her knickers, Hermione's eyes rolled as she made a sound of voracious need. She turned in his arms as he grasped her back to his chest with his free hand. She gripped his shirt and the arm of the settee and stilled herself as she looked down to where Tom's hand was now cupping her mound, entranced.

"Are you ready darling," he asked his voice thick as he rubbed her through her knickers to a frenetic state. "You cannot blame the spell now."

Hermione nodded eagerly, any arguments she could have erected fleeing her. Tentatively, Tom made a sweeping movement with his fingers and Hermione let her head drop back onto his shoulder. And when his fingers delved in to her now seeping wet entrance, she felt her senses vacate as she could only _feel_ , feel and listen. Listen to Tom's seductive murmurings as she let his magical hands take over bringing her to new heights she did not know could exist. "Yes darling, just like that, so good, and you taste, gods but you taste heavenly, just like I thought you would, and you are all mine, I am not giving you up, you will be my dark lady, you will reign by my side, we will be unstoppable, none dare oppose us, just you and me, you and me, darling," his mouth was on her neck, on her shoulder, his hips rolling underneath her, Hermione felt on the precipice of something uncharted and wholly pleasurable. "Ah, feel what you do to me, I am so ready for you, and you are ready, I can feel it, my magic is fusing with yours darling, we will be inseparable, just you and I, now is the time, let go." The urgency of her desire was too compelling and she let herself go to the rapture he had created, their magic caressing ravenously around them. Hermione cried in the bliss of her ecstasy but she had barely started to enjoy it when she felt the absence of his fingers as she was roughly flipped onto her back on the settee.

Hermione could not even cry out in rage as the delightful feel of his fingers was quickly replaced by something hard, hot, and thick. Hermione did not have the presence of mind to think of when he could have vanished his clothes, as he suddenly surged forward, effectively filling her to the hilt. A mixture of pleasure and pain took over as he stilled himself so her body could adjust to him. The pain was quickly subsiding to let the pleasure take over. Hermione looked up to barely register the strained look of Tom above her; it looked like holding still was proving a difficult task for him.

Her previous orgasm never quite ebbing away completely, Hermione felt the insurmountable need to squeeze down on him, when she did so Tom let out a torturous groan. She squeezed again and this propelled him into action. When he began moving, Hermione could not help but move with him. Feeling something deeper awaiting them on the horizon, her hands sought purchase on the strong rigidness of him, fingernails raking over his back and shoulders. Her body was on fire as she met Tom thrust for delicious thrust.

Quickly, she was brought to the edge again, and this time was happy to submit herself over the ledge into the abyss as waves of rhapsody overtook her and she rode it in earnest letting the ecstasy overcome her.

Tom, felt a crescendo of heat building up behind his engorged member. It was all he could do to keep from losing it as he drove forward into a writhing Hermione, at home in her welcoming heat. When she cried out, effectively clamping down on him squeeze after squeeze, Tom could not stay in control any longer and lost it as lunged forward with all the strength he could muster one last time. He dipped down catching every breathy, keening noise she made into his smoldering kisses while she milked him for all he was worth. It was sublime and he felt unbridled joy take over his body as he rode wave after wave of bliss. There union brought forth more rapturous feelings as their magic bonded, he could tell Hermione did not know what to make of it.

Tom rolled over pulling a weak and limp Hermione to his side. They stayed like that for minutes, Tom simply content to lightly massage her neck and back.

"Did you feel that Hermione," he asked voice still husky. "The bonding of our magic," he explained further.

"Is that what that was?" She asked weakly. "Is that normal, it can't be, I haven't read about it."

He chortled at this, his Hermione was a strange little witch, but she was his. "My magic calls to yours and yours to mine," he drawled. "I felt it first during our duel, didn't you?"

She waited a few seconds before saying, "Yes, I felt it too."

"We are bonded now, a rare thing to happen among witches and wizards but it has happened with us."

"Oh," she said yawning. "I'll research it tomorrow, I am quite tired now."

He could sense his witch was fading fast, he did not think in the future he should cast unforgivables on her again, it was taxing and affected her libido.

"You do that love," he said contented. "But just know you are mine now, there is no going back, mine forever, and I am yours."

Hermione mumbled something inaudible; she really could not focus anymore. So they were bound now were they? Well she could not think about that now, she'd have to think about it tomorrow. Hopefully, this binding would work in her favor and would help her be able to contain him. Yes, that would work. She had run through a lot of plans but plan C seemed to be going along swimmingly, how better to keep an eye on her dark lord than to become his lady?


	5. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know this conclusion was a long time coming and thank you to those that patiently waited for its end. I initially intended this story as a two shot, I never intended to write a long story—I have enough WIP’s going right now but felt this epilogue was necessary to tie up lose ends. Considering some of the feedback, it sounds like that’s what the readers want too C: So here you go, this story was very close to my heart as it just sort of wrote itself. I know it’s rough, I had no beta and just sort of went with it, but I hope some of you find it enjoyable.
> 
> Additional Warnings: Darkish Hermione—if that isn’t your thing, the last chapter is a good place to stop and could be stand alone. Not very Dumbledore friendly—I have always had issues with the way AD handled things in Canon and I suppose that led to the light I’ve written him in this fic. The new timeline is vastly different from the old, people had more kids (probably due to the lack of war) or none at all. Remember, this time travel is different from the typical time turner as it’s Fae influenced—it does not move in a circle.
> 
> Happy reading and I hope you enjoy the final chapter C:
> 
> ~AR

**Epilogue**

**September 2000**

The students of Professor Agatha Nott's Third Year History of Magic class paid apt attention to the witch who was speaking on a topic that captivated their interest—the so called immortal Minister and Mistress of Magic, Lord and Lady Riddle.

"Now then," Professor Nott started. "Can anyone tell me how many years ago the wizarding world became aware of the current Minister and Mistress of Magic?"

Charlotte Longbottom raised her hand. "Yes, Longbottom?" The Professor called.

"We first heard of the Minister and Mistress 58 years ago, when they fought in the First Wizarding War," Charlotte answered promptly.

"Very good," Professor Nott praised. She turned to face the rest of the class. "You may be surprised to know my grandfather Trevor, fought in the first Wizarding War, him and my grandmother—Myrtle. They went to school with our fearless leaders, right here at Hogwarts."

"The Minister and his lady attended Hogwarts?" Rupert Weasley asked puzzled. "I didn't know that."

"How could you not?" Alison Prevell questioned snarkily. "Lady Riddle wears the crest of Hogwarts in her Chocolate Frog picture."

"There is a portrait of them in the Heads Common room as well," said Dorea Black. "My cousin Draco told me. He was Head Boy his year."

"Yes we know," Gloria Potter sighed. "That was only two years ago; we were First Years then."

Dorea rolled her eyes at her Gryffindor nemesis.

"Blimey," said Rupert. "If I was immortal, I sure wouldn't waste my time going to school."

"They aren't immortal, stupid," Gloria informed her friend. "They just haven't aged. Some witches and wizards are lucky that way—it's hereditary. The former Headmaster before McGonnagal, Armando Dippet lived hundreds of years."

"Yes but he looked it," Dorea piped in.

"It's true, haven't you seen his portrait in the Headmaster's office?" Rupert asked. "He was ancient."

"We don't go to the Headmaster's office as often as you, Weasley," Alison replied as the class snickered at Rupert's expense.

"He also employed a ghost to teach HoM," The Professor interrupted. "McGonnagal did away with that however, wanting someone who could teach recent history. But we are getting off topic—this isn't a theoretical class. Mr. Weasley—I'll have you know Lady Riddle is quite adamant about young witches and wizards receiving an education. While they were in Auror training, she advocated heavily to see that all muggleborns and half-bloods received the same quality education in Britain."

Rupert nodded in understanding. "Now then," Professor Nott continued. "About the Wizarding War, what do you know about it? Yes, Lovegood?"

Harmony Lovegood spoke up quietly and the other students had to perk up to listen, "The Wizarding War started in 1945, it was after Lord and Lady Riddle graduated Hogwarts."

"Yes Harmony," Professor Nott agreed. "They were in Auror training at the time, the youngest to ever enter the program. Please continue."

"Lord Voldemort launched attacks against the Ministry, they were sporadic and unhinged, yet damaging just the same," continued Harmony.

"What did he want?" Rupert asked, genuinely interested.

"Some say he was a faction broken off from Grindelwald's group," Dorea said. "My grandfather said Voldemort amassed a group of followers to do his bidding. They were called Death Eaters. They wanted to take over Wizarding Britain."

"Correct," Professor Nott said, smiling. "The British Ministry was in need of a hero. Too full of corruption to properly lead the nation, it was the wizarding world's youth who ultimately stepped up."

"Albus Dumbledore and Minister Fudge were killed by Lord Voldemort," Rupert offered. "My mum told me that."

"Albus Dumbledore was a great wizard," The Professor said nodding gravely. "He met a tragic end, and after only just besting Gellert Grindelwald in a duel. It was a difficult time for the wizarding world; a dark time. Witches and wizards lived in fear. We needed a leader and not just one from the corrupted Ministry. Someone young, with fresh ideas."

"Didn't the Ministry initially resist Lord Riddle's petition to become Minister?" asked Gloria.

"They certainly did, Potter," Professor Nott affirmed. "But after Lord Riddle and his lady—merely two teenagers had defeated Lord Voldemort, the decision for them to become Minister and Mistress, something unheard of at the time, was unanimous."

"What I don't understand," Gloria went on. "Is how come elections are not held any longer? My brother Harry said in days past, it was common to elect new Ministers."

"But there is no need as of now," Nott said chuckling at the preposterous notion. "They both are still young and healthy. They are heroes of the wizarding era. We are thankful that we have them to lead us, so we don't fall into dark times again. We have had 56 years of peace thanks to them. Not to mention the improved disposition of muggles, muggleborns, and half-bloods," she paused to look at her class seriously. "Did you know that back in the 1950's, muggleborns and even half-bloods were forced to sit in the back of the train to Hogwarts? Or that it had even been proposed by dark wizards that muggles should be enslaved to the magical community? Lord and Lady Riddle have changed all that, and we have much to be appreciative for."

The students all nodded, Gloria hung her head in shame for even bringing the topic of elections up. The duo Minister and Mistress of Magic were clearly the best thing to ever happen to Wizarding Britain.

"Now class," Professor Nott continued. "For your essay, I'd like you to choose a topic to write on regarding the Minister and Mistress. It can be dating back to their school days, as I know many of you have relatives that knew the Riddles personally during this time. It can also be their roles in the Wizarding war or various projects they have taken on over the years. Anything you want, but I'd like it to be a three foot essay at least."

"Could it be about something we think will happen in the future?" Isaiah Kingsley asked. "My father told me that in the next twenty years, we may not even separate leaders by country anymore, that Britain's Ministry will reign supreme, and that they'll rule all of the wizarding world."

"If you can support the theory historically, I don't see why not," the Professor granted.

"What about a theoretical piece?" Asked Harmony. "My mother and father are fans of stories, the more unique the better. I once heard a tale regarding the Minister and Mistress, about their journey to seek immortality."

"I heard about that," Dorea said dismissively. "My father used to tell me about the Elixir of Life, found only in Cleopatra's tomb, heavily warded and impossible to get into. Lord and Lady Riddle wouldn't dare disturb it."

"Not in Cleopatra's tomb," Gloria corrected. "Uncle Sirius told me it was in Merlin's tomb. Perhaps he wouldn't trust his Slytherin daughter with the information, though."

"Oh please," Dorea said, rolling her eyes. "My father doesn't care a bit for house rivalries; I should know—him and Aunt Lily have told me countless times, as they've told you."

"Ladies please," Professor Nott interrupted before turning back to Harmony. "Is that what you wish to write about Lovegood? I'd imagine there is a lot of evidence from which to draw from, if so."

"The Elixir of Life isn't in any tomb," Harmony said. "It's located on the Isle of Fae, I thought everyone knew that."

"You mean to say," Rupert began. "That Lord and Lady Riddle somehow snuck to the mythical land of the faery's and stole their precious elixir, right from under their Fae noses? You're buggering mad, that's what you are."

"Harmony," Nott began gently. "I don't think that really qualifies as a topic—it's far too imaginary for History of Magic. Besides, _the Immortal Minister and Mistress of Magic_ is just a title, no one really believes they're eternal."

"But why not?" Harmony argued. "You said yourself; they haven't aged a day. It's a reasonable explanation."

"Maybe so but I'll have to put my foot down about this one. I know Professor Hagrid let you write your final on Nargles though they aren't essentially recognized as magical creatures, but I will have to insist you choose something factually based. I can't have my students making up stories about our beloved Minister and Mistress. It's highly far-fetched anyhow."

"Very well," Lovegood said agreeably. "I'll just write about Lady Riddle's advocacy for house elfs instead. I think it wasn't a very popular idea at the time."

"That's a wonderful solution," Professor Nott said kindly.

**000**

"Are you sure about this then?" Tom said lounging on the plush settee in their apartments.

Hermione was casting blue flame charms on the large, hovering tea candles that changed colors continuously while lit, a gift from the Chinese Minister of Magic. _At least he's the Minister for now,_ Hermione thought bleakly, _he won't be for long if Tom gets his way_. "Quite sure," she answered. "It gets ever so boring to not have anyone to open up to."

Tom put his hand over his heart in mock hurt. "You have me," he reminded her. "And who better to speak to in confidence than I; no one understands you better than me."

"I mean friends, Tom," she snapped. "A girl needs her friends to keep her sanity. It isn't healthy to only have one strong relationship."

"You have lots of friends," Tom argued. "You are the Mistress of Magic for Salazar's-sake. And have you forgotten about Myrtle?"

"No," she said, slumping down in the oversized chair across from him. "I haven't forgotten about Myrtle. And she has been a very dear friend. But it's…odd; looking so much younger than your lifelong friends. Sometimes I wish I'd grown old with them."

"Now that's just silly," Tom declared as he lit a cigar. "Don't tell me you regret taking the Elixir of Life with me, _soulmate_."

As the plumes of smoke wafted around her, she was reminded of their mission to the isle of Fae. He had encouraged her to read up on the subject of immortality immediately and in between Auror training, she read through every Alchemy book she could find including the books by Nicolas Flemmel, before finally finding mention of the Elixir of Life. The search had been put on hold then, during her rebellion against Tom.

In the beginning, she was fearful of the way Tom seemed to have the uncanny ability to influence her decisions and even manipulate her. When she came to terms with the fact that he was always able to get his way concerning her, the thought was horrifying, and she refused to help him further.

What followed then was the rise of Lord Voldemort, earlier than it had happened in her timeline. Whereas before, Tom seemed to have an agenda, this time he struck with no rhyme or reason but to cause chaos and fear in the wizarding community still shaken from the muggle war. _And I played right into his hands,_ she thought bleakly, recalling how she had fought the so-called remnants of Grindelwald's army who were really Tom's friends—the knights of Walpurgis, masked in disguise. Tom would transfigure himself into the horrible monster he'd seen in her memories, as she'd let him see, or rather been coerced into showing him. Then he would morph back into the charming Tom Riddle whenever the journalists would arrive just in time to paint the picture of being the brave Auror-in-training, fighting alongside his wife against the mighty Death Eaters.

There was no one Hermione could go to, her story was unbelievable and what would the Ministry say if they knew she'd meddled with time? The Ministry was weak anyway; Hermione had to begrudgingly admit that Tom was indeed right about that. He had insisted they marry in Seventh Year after he turned eighteen. He said they were already bound magically; it only stood to reason they should be bound in the eyes of the wizarding world as well.

He broke her down little by little, she saw that now. She saw how he was able to play on her weaknesses, how he twisted everything to ultimately benefit his plan. _And I couldn't resist him, could I?_ She thought inwardly. As much as she vowed to not fall victim to his treacherous touch, perfidious kisses, and his seductive words, it never worked and she crumbled every time. _I truly have become his dark lady,_ she thought, _but I have changed some things for the better_.

She smiled at the small victories she'd managed. There were not so many casualties in the Wizarding War, none near as much as in her timeline. In fact, she had to admit yet again that Tom was right—Dumbledore could not live in this new world they created. He never took his eyes off Tom and Hermione during Sixth or even Seventh Year. Gone was the Headmaster that looked to her with a twinkle in his blue eyes, he looked at her with distrust and… _disapproval._ She could even feel the silent grazing of her mind by the powerful leglimence. Thankfully, Tom had tutored her well in becoming an occlumence. Not that she wasn't half bad thanks to the Fae side of her.

Tom's whispers about her former Headmaster took root and Hermione began to see things his way. Dumbledore had raised Harry up to be a sheep for the slaughter; in her timeline, he'd sent children on dangerous tasks he surely could have taken some of the responsibility for. Dumbledore had a weakness for power just like them, Tom reminded her of this often, what was to say he would not misuse or abuse his knowledge again like he almost had done before with Grindelwald? Tom was right as always, what he wasn't right about however was the way in which it had ended and her role in what Hermione still felt was a difficult betrayal to swallow.

_Dumbledore had thought he was dueling Lord Voldemort, the character Tom created based on Hermione's memories. He was gaining the upper hand and may have won if not for her. Hermione had been resisting Tom's influence on her, determined to assert her own independence and not be used, but when she saw Tom, her Tom, in that potentially fatal situation with their powerful Professor, she felt compelled to act. She opened up a portal to swallow the lethal curse Dumbledore was throwing Tom's way, her own special spell that always came in so handy. It was a spell Tom would one day learn as they discovered how to syndicate their linked power._

_At that moment, there was no denying her love for Tom Riddle. He may not be capable of returning her love, merely loving her power and the force of it when combined with his, but Hermione could not imagine a world without him. It would be as if she'd ripped her soul apart to an unrecognizable remnant of its former self if she lost him. She acted immediately, throwing strong curse after strong curse at the outnumbered wizard. Tom transfigured himself back to his glorious self then and the way he looked at her; his approval caused her heart to swell with pride and she barely recognized the hardened look on Albus Dumbledore's face as he realized he'd been right about them the entire time._

_Tom taunted him then, never had they shared Hermione's story with anyone, not even Myrtle or his knights, but Tom told Dumbledore everything during that final duel. How in the future, Tom had really become the monster Dumbledore had previously witnessed, how Hermione was a time traveler—traveling to their time with a locket Dumbledore himself had bestowed upon her, how Hermione was one of his favorite students, how she had been set on foiling Tom's plans but…"Now she is mine, irrevocably," Tom had said before hitting him directly with the killing curse._

_Hermione had went into a depression then, slumping to the ground, feeling the weight of betrayal heavy on her shoulders. Tom was on a power high as he held the elder wand for the first time ever. He had scooped her up easily in his arms after that. "Don't shed a tear for the old bat," he instructed while fingering her hair. "We are in this together Hermione; you can either work with me or rip yourself apart trying to oppose me." The realization dawning on her, she had lowered her head down to the crook of his shoulder in submission; she would never oppose him again. She had a lot more say when she played his game. "My good girl," he'd crooned. "So loyal, so_ mine. _"_

Coming back to herself, Hermione eyed the haughty wizard lounging in front of her, still ever the debonair with his aristocratic features and confident way he carried himself.

"I don't regret taking the Elixir of Life, Tom," Hermione frowned as she answered him. "But I hope you haven't forgotten how you came by the elixir."

"Another one of your secrets," he said, furrowing his brow in displeasure. "A wife should not keep secrets from her husband."

He was manipulating her again, as he always did, but in some sick way Hermione realized she _liked_ it, she liked to be _dominated_ and he was the only man capable of influencing her this way. No one else had ever come close before and Hermione realized long ago she'd met her match. _As he met his,_ Hermione smiled wickedly allowing herself a brief moment of triumph at her achievement this day behind the wizard's back.

"A secret?" Hermione asked innocently. "We had agreed only I look at the Fae scrolls and tomes," she reminded.

_Her mind was brought back to the days spent pouring over texts as she tried to find an alternate solution to Tom's quest for immortality, she would not allow him to create horcruxes this time around; he was evil enough without their dark influence._

_It wasn't long before Hermione found the sacred Runes and was forced to ask Tom's help in deciphering them, but she attempted to keep as much information from him as possible so he would not abuse the knowledge._

_"_ _Buggering hell," he swore once the Runes were deciphered and a map of sorts was revealed. "This will never work. We know where it is, but there are no spells to breach these kinds of wards, only Fae may cross them."_

_Hermione did not share the same feeling of defeat; well aware of the locket's power inside her she was sure she could cross the wards. "Let's just try, Tom," she attempted to sooth him. "Perhaps we can discover some loophole we can use to our advantage." He had not been so optimistic, but after pinpointing the entrance to the Realm of the Fae located off the coast of Ireland, they cast the appropriate binding spells and drew the correct Runes into the grass before both of them ventured inside the portal._

_They had donned the vanishing cloak Tom insisted they procure from the Potter's once he discovered it was a Hallow, convinced it may be able to conceal them from the Fae since it was a creation of Death ,himself. Now Tom possessed two hollows and was getting awfully close to becoming the master of the hallows. They had trekked through the mists following the trail the map led to when arriving to their destination quickly._

_"_ _Give me the chalice," she'd instructed. "Stay here under the cloak while I…try something." Tom had stayed obediently behind to her surprise, but he looked suspicious._

_She walked tentatively towards the Fae falls that pooled in a quiet pond just before her. As she'd suspected, she was able to cross to the pool, only just feeling a light pull on her magic as she made her way further and further. The closer she came, the more she felt as though she were walking through thick molasses, but she made it to the edge of the pool eventually and knelt down to dip the chalice in the eternal waters._

_Once she filled it to the brim, she quickly turned around endeavoring to reach Tom again. They had not met any Fae yet but she didn't want to risk it. She hurried to the spot she'd left Tom in and gasped when she felt a strong arm come out and grasp her. She was pulled under the safety of the cloak immediately, with only a little of the water spilling over the chalice._

_"_ _How did you do that?" Tom demanded. "How did you reach the pool? Only Fae royals have permission to do so."_

_"_ _I-I had a theory," she stuttered, always fearful of Tom when he was in this state. "I thought that since I had breached time, almost like how the Fae's do, it wasn't your typical time-turner experience where it had already happened that way and it's merely a circle," she was babbling and she knew it. "It was a fresh, new time altogether, I don't know why or how, but it gave me reason to suspect I would be impervious to the wards here."_

_Tom was eyeing her closely, carefully watching for any sign deceit. "A loophole?" he questioned._

_Hermione nearly let out a sigh of relief as she nodded. "A loophole," she agreed. "Brought about by the random, illogical way that we were brought together."_

_"_ _Not random," he disagreed. "Destined." He grabbed the chalice bringing it to his lips and drank greedily, but stopped himself before consuming it entirely. "Here," he presented the cup to her. "Drink my brilliant witch so that we may be bound together for eternity."_

_Hesitating for a moment, Hermione carefully reached for the cup. This was it; there would be no turning back at this point. Tom was staring at her intensely, his eyes darkening and magic crackling from the effects of the elixir. She sensed a yearning in his eyes, a yearning to be connected to her forever; she was helpless to resist the temptation to do just that._

_"_ _Alright," Hermione agreed, lifting the cup in the air. "To forever."_

_Tom smiled triumphantly._

_The heady sensation from consuming the eternal elixir was quickly having an effect on Hermione as well and she grabbed a hold of Tom's arm to lead him quickly to the portal and to the safety of the human world. He followed eagerly and once they were safely outside the Fae realm, apparated them both urgently away from the portal._

_"_ _Where are we-," Hermione began as she surveyed the Irish highlands they were standing on, but Tom cut her off as he quickly toppled her to the soft ground below. His mouth on her own was insistent and demanding and Hermione could not help but to return his kiss with equal fervor. He'd taken her hard and fast then; just the way she'd desired to be taken. The fierceness and desperation of their lovemaking calling to her soul. She'd made a connection with him; an eternal connection that could never be severed._

_When it was done and they lie panting on their backs looking heavenward, she turned her head to see that Tom was smiling victoriously through his elation._

The sound of Tom's voice brought her back to the here and now. "You know I read those scrolls and tomes," he admitted carelessly. "Do you really think you could ever keep knowledge from me?"

"I suppose not," she acknowledged. "You always get what you want, don't you Tom?" She knew it to be true but she never told him of the locket's power, or how she'd bound it to herself and that was the way she was able to do powerful dueling magic—magic he was happy to draw upon through their bond. There was no telling what he could do with the information.

"Quit trying to change the subject," he ordered in irritation. "You gave me some bull shit excuse about being impervious to Fae wards due to time travel, and I've found nothing in my research to support that theory."

"There can hardly be a wealth of evidence on an occurrence that's never happened before except to us," she reasoned.

"Still," he said insistently. "All these years together and yet here you are as stubborn as the day we met."

"I disagree," she said as she got up from the chair and strode over to him. "You said yourself, _it's not so much cheating as it is getting my way_ , and when don't you get your way Tom? You wanted my magic, to be able to call on it when you needed more power and you got that, didn't you?" She came to prop herself down on his lap.

"I wanted you," Tom said easily, arms coming up to encircle her. "Your magic was simply an added bonus."

"You've made me selfish," she accused. "I know I did some questionable things before you, to pursue my and my friend's interests, but you've played on that weakness. You've built it up and conditioned it with your whispers and suggestions. You think I don't know but I do. I blame you."

"It's easier to have a scapegoat," Tom replied.

"Yes," Hermione nodded as she began stroking his hair. "But now I want _more_."

"More?" he asked.

"Yes, more," she affirmed. "I do not want to be alone in my memories. I want to share them. I want to share them with Harry and Ron. I don't care if it's a selfish thing to want. My heart hurts and I yearn for the comradery we once shared."

A muscle twitched by his eye. Tom stayed quiet before replying. "You're right," he said.

"I'm right?" she repeated in surprise.

"You're right," he affirmed. "You have become selfish."

Hermione hissed and wrenched her hand away but Tom caught it.

"Don't be disagreeable," Tom said, twining her hand around his neck. "I love the selfish you. I'm just surprised that's all."

"Oh?" she said taking the bait.

"The old Hermione would never have wanted to burden her perfectly normal, ignorant, and oblivious friends with information of their past; another dimension they once lived with her. The old Hermione set out to change a horrendous future, she achieved that and more. Sure there were some casualties; people born that probably shouldn't have been, people that weren't born at all, deaths that probably came a bit too soon, but ultimately you did the impossible."

Hermione looked down then, gathering the courage looked up at him demurely, willing him to continue. Tom smiled inwardly; sometimes she made it so easy for him.

"But it's the new Harry and Ron that worry me. Do you really think they are the same boys you grew up with? They are not brave and hardened from the war as you remember. They are soft, annoying, weak creatures who have no idea what fighting is like. Do you really want to ruin their rosy pink perception of life? Also, what would they think of your decision to side with the wizard which they fought so hard against?" Tom hated to bring that up, but he would use anything to his advantage.

Hermione was about to bite out an angry retort, but stopped herself thinking better of it. Tom saw the precise moment at which she relented and felt victorious. He'd never had any intention of letting her share her memories, but it was so much easier when she came to the decision herself and he didn't have to force her hand.

"I suppose you're right," Hermione submitted. "But can we at least make friends with them? Maybe I cannot inform them of what happened, but at least I can form new friendships with them."

Tom's initial reaction was to grimace but he quickly schooled his features. "Of course," he granted graciously. "I want you to have lots of healthy friendships. And if that is the sort of friends you wish to have, I certainly won't stand in your way."

"Tom," Hermione said lovingly. "You always know how to make me feel better."

Alarms started going off in his head. "Really?" he started tentatively. 

"Yes," she nodded while walking her fingers lightly up the chest of his well-tailored dress robes.

"How so? Is another trip to St. John in order? I won't get on your muggle board again."

"You make sure you get your way, but you also make sure I'm taken care of as well," she said happily, ignoring his last suggestion. "That's why I know you'll help me with something I want, that I've been wanting for years."

Tom sighed inwardly, knowing exactly where this was going. "The fertility issue," he said knowingly. "I already told you, pet, I don't think there's anything that can be done about it. A side effect from immortality, I think."

"Yes," she agreed, continuing to play with his collar distractedly. "Only, I've done some research of my own."

"Oh," he said, feeling the heat creep up his neck.

"That's right," she said nodding. "And you'd never guess what I discovered."

"Hermione," he started warningly.

"Imagine my surprise at finding your anti-fertility spell binding me? Hmm, and you thought I had secrets."

"Hermione," he said roughly, sitting up quickly and forcing her to sit up as well. "I already told you years ago; _I don't share_. You'd better put that spell back into effect immediately."

"I don't see the point in that," she said teasingly. "Being as I'm already carrying your child, Tom."

"What?" he cried, dumping her haphazardly on the floor as he reached for his wand. He rarely let his temper slip but apparently Hermione was expecting it as he felt himself being whirled into the wall by her stunning spell. "Let me get rid of it this instant," he bartered.

"Not on your life," Hermione vowed. Tom cringed at her words, already she was picking _it_ over him. " _Perfecto Totalus_ ," she muttered and Tom instantly felt the effects of the body bind. His little witch had become powerful over the years, but she rarely wielded that power over him.

"Now," she called as she sauntered over to him. "You've always been perfectly good at adapting, Tom. You'll simply have to adapt to this." Hermione perched atop him once more as she started fiddling with his robes again. "I know the real reason for your anger, you're simply scared. Born under the deceit of a love potion, unwanted by your father, your mother unfit to care for you, and growing up in a loveless orphanage; you're scared you don't have what it takes to be a good father." _That's what you think,_ Tom muttered inwardly. "Don't worry Tom," she continued. "I have faith in you. I know you'll be wonderful; you've never failed at anything before. And if I'm wrong, you better believe I wouldn't bring any child into this world I couldn't protect."

There was urgency behind her words and Tom had to begrudgingly admire her assuredness. Her confidence was actually turning him on more than anything and he wished he was not restricted by the body bind, oh how he'd love to punish her!

"Now Tom," she started. "You wanted my help with this…taking over the world thing and you have my support as always, husband. But, it's time you gave me something in return. I want a child to love, to raise, to be your heir, and you're giving me that." Hermione stared him in the eye carefully attempting to read him. "I'll let you out of this bind if you agree to not get in my way. If you were to welcome the idea of fatherhood, I'd be greatly appreciative."

She sensed compliance in his eyes and murmured a quick _Finate Incantum_ before being immediately toppled by the angry wizard.

"You are a sneaky, little witch," he accused.

"I've learned from the best," she said unapologetically then gasped as she felt him against her abdomen, hard and ready. "Are you ready to embark on this new journey with me, Tom?"

"Slightly annoyed, but ready. I must say though, kudos to you for discovering my little charm, it was supposed to be undetectable. You never cease to astound me."

"You're a difficult man to please," Hermione admitted. "But I'd like to think I'm getting the hang of it."

"Well," Tom said leaning down to capture her lips. "You have an eternity to do just that."

Hermione eagerly returned his kiss, feeling victorious for the first time in years. She had finally bested her dark wizard and knew she would be able to do so, many more times in the uncharted future. Plan C was officially a success.

**000**

Elbina of the Fae watched the two lovers in a detached sort of way, as if viewing a play. In some ways, this was the ultimate play. The mortal world had long since been a form of entertainment to the immortals, but these two were not mortals.

Rage boiled up in Elbina, her silvery form flickering in anger as she thought back to the crime this witch and wizard had done against her race. They had sought the Fae's sacred elixir, only the Fae Royals were permitted to touch it—tasked with guarding it through the ages, and they'd failed. The proud duo before her had easily breached Fae wards as if it were nothing.

If only Elbina had known that clever little witch would bound the Fae magick of the locket to herself, Elbina would have ripped it from the witches hands. But she never could have guessed what the Fae magick would be used for, content to sit back and watch the entertaining play before her. Now that decision had come back to haunt her, and the Fae were simply not _haunted_ by anything.

The Fae did not _worry_ either but Elbina found herself doing just that. She had come initially to seek vengeance on the haughty witch and wizard, but was taken by surprise at the revelation the witch was with child. What did this mean for the Fae? Would the child be born with the same magical abilities of the mother? Capable of wielding Fae magick? The father was already powerful enough, who knew what the child's abilities would be, the thought was staggering.

Could things have been worse? Elbina was not sure. Nothing of this nature had ever happened before in Fae memory and for the first time in a long time, she could not fathom the ramifications of their actions. Sighing in exasperation as she watched the entwined couple before her, she begrudgingly had to admit her envy. The Fae were notorious lovers but rarely was she able to bear witness to passion such as this. Perhaps it would all work out in the end? Only the Fae and the witch knew of the other timeline, one she'd effectively erased.

Elbina had warned the young witch; do not trade one dark wizard for another or worse, add to their ranks. _Well,_ Elbina thought, _she's done just that_. Only time would tell what consequences would arise from what Elbina had allowed to transpire and there was a lot of time—why it was actually infinite.


End file.
